Lost Not Forgotten
by winterschildren
Summary: Darker things were taking place within the HYDRA base walls, yet that was no shock to those who knew the horrors. While still adjusting to the modern world, Steve Rogers encounters two very old friends, tortured, changed and seemingly beyond his help, but amidst the destruction brought there may yet be hope for both, if they could only remember... Bucky/OC
1. The VERSUCH - 01

_**A**__/__**N – **__hello, hello! I have re-uploaded this fic because I wanted to take it in a different direction, sorry for that, as an apology I have chapter two up and ready for uploading soon. Enjoy! c:_

_(warning: this fanfiction will contain spoilers for the Winter Soldier)_

* * *

_Washington D.C. – the Tirskelion _

Steve had received the phone call just after his morning run, the pale morning was bright and the sleepy city had begun to rise for another busy day, he had completed his tenth round before seeking refuge under a nearby tree, his breathing only slightly elevated, when the chipper tone sounded.

"Rogers," he answered, bringing the small pocket-sized telephone to his ear.

"Fury wants you in, Cap." Natasha Romanoff's dulcet, automatic voice came through the receiver, she sounded distracted somewhat. "It's urgent."

"On my way," Steve had said and instantly he made his way to the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters, the circular concrete building could be seen from where he was stood, it reached up into the cloudless sky like a stone beacon.

The Captain now sat outside Director Fury's office, his eyes cast to the floor in front of him until a flash of red danced past, he looked up to find Natasha, a little unsettled, with that slight, miniscule smile playing on her lips.

"Cap," she greeted proceeding to enter, her image and clearance status flashing up on the blue control panel beside the door as she vanished through it, Steve stood slowly and followed, a profound sense of foreboding settling in his stomach at the hidden disturbance beneath the agents hardened façade.

Fury was gazing out at the bustling city below from the large window when they both walked in, his back to them. Natasha recoiled into the far corner, observing from a distance, a habit she had picked up. Fury turned, the edges of his black, leather coat tails fanning outward, he held a thin S.H.I.E.L.D file between his hands, and wore a deep frown.

"Take a seat, Captain," he said inclining his head down to the empty grey chair.

Silently Steve took it the gravity of the situation establishing in his mind, resting his hands on the vast desk; he seized a long inhale before Fury spoke again, his voice level and calm.

"Back in the war you managed to destroy several HYDRA bases across Europe, in the last bunker you cleared out there was an unidentified humanoid, how or why they were put there we don't know, we will never know. But the nature of how they were kept is very interesting." Fury slid the brown file forward across the table, Steve did not look him in the eye nor did he move to take hold of the thin, cryptic paper.

"Captain," Fury called, almost commanding, he needed the man to look over the notes, if Rogers was to even have a minute chance at taking the threat down he had to know them first.

Steve remained silent, a constant battle of conflicting thoughts plaguing his mind, he recalled those days all too well. He reluctantly edged his fingers forward and drew the paper close to his chest, flipping open the brown file named in the top right corner as 'VERSUCH – 01'. Pulling off the silver paper clip holding together the three sheets of paper and a multitude of images, the Captain splayed out the contents in front of him and inspected every detail carefully.

His blue irises were drawn to a large, recent image of the humanoid in question, he was immediately taken aback to see that it was in fact a woman, she lay on a sliver table much how he had seen his own frozen body kept, she was ashen, skin smooth with the ice and washed of all natural colour, dark circles set under her closed lids, purple and bruise-like they gave the appearance of deeply set eyes, what lurked beneath them was something Steve could only try and imagine. Her hair was flaxen, cropped short so it reached just above her shoulders, dark tones mixed with choppy layers, damp and dripping with thawing ice. Some form of thick canvas material concealed the features below her nose and so it was impossible to distinguish who she may be.

Her body was augmented, lithe and with a strength evident through the curved muscles of her arms, power was sealed away within her unconscious frame, tall and fierce even in darkened rest. Director Fury had been right in his assumptions; the way she had been kept was interesting indeed. Glazing his scrutiny to the second, old faded image he picked it up and brought it close to his face. Inside the desolate belly of the base, the only photographs taken by those first on the scene had been laid out on the table, the one Steve was clutching in his hand filled him with horror.

Inside a circular tube the woman was clamped down with metals, thick strips of the shining, tough material the Captain recognised to be alien to the periodic elements; there were so many they almost covered her upper body and legs. Her head held in place by a metal choker trapping her down to the machine that froze her body.

There was an indelible mark on her left forearm which had its own blown up image, it stated what the file name had been given; VERSUCH – 01. Steve felt his thick brows furrow deeply, creases emerging on his forehead.

"What does _versuch_ mean?" he asked not looking up but instead glazing his eyes over the one page report which only alluded to what they could decipher from the images and the mysteries surrounding the disappearance of the personnel first on the scene along with all traces of the Versuch herself.

"It's German," Natasha spoke from the corner of Fury's office for the first time, she was leant against the far wall; keen eyes fixed on the Captain, attentive just as much as the Director himself. "Loosely, it means 'experiment'; literally it means 'attempt'."

"An attempt at what exactly?" Steve enquired as if to himself, taking a glance to the agent behind him; she was deadpan in her expressionless visage, which was not uncommon however he could see the unsettlement in her dull green eyes.

"That's the problem," Fury said his deep voice calmly controlled, he lowered his body into the chair behind him placing his hands down on the desk. "We don't know."

"So why tell me now, what's the point of all this?" Steve asked.

"After New York we became very aware of situations such as these, what you're looking at is what we managed to salvage from old World War 2 records before they were destroyed, I searched the database for such experiments at the time but they came up blank." Fury explained. "Someone deleted every trace of experiments carried out before and after the war ended."

Steve processed the information silently, his eyes turning to the black print on the paper again, it was odd that her discovery had been completely wiped from S.H.I.E.L.D's databases; it would have taken someone with high security clearance to even gain access to the file let alone delete it.

"This one," Steve pointed to the most recent image, where the others were tarnished with age; this one was new, taken not that long ago. "This is a recent, if you have no idea who, or what, she is then how have you got this photograph?"

"It was sent to us by an anonymous source," Fury answered, and Steve could see no lie in his remaining eye. "They want us to know that they've woken her up, we tried tracking the source but it didn't lead anywhere."

"We've been on high alert for her since New York," Natasha said, stepping forward. "But she's a ghost, untraceable and impossible to track, some in the agency don't even believe she exists," she canted her head down to the old photographs and recent image. "Someone's decided to give us the proof and apparently tell us she's around."

"I understand it doesn't make much sense," Fury said once he saw the increasing bewilderment at the seemingly pointless events on Steve's handsome features. "Your mission is to keep both eyes open; this threat is very real and very dangerous."

Steve understood well enough, although he could not nip the nagging sensation that there was something much bigger at work, it appeared that he was not alone in this for Natasha's atypical concern leant to a lot more. The agency was notorious for lying; he had been at the receiving end of Fury's slander more than once since he had joined, although as he looked both agents in the eye he saw that they were just as suspicious and just as clueless as he was himself.

"And if I come across this… Versuch –" he adjusted his deep tones to the foreign word "– what do I do?"

"Take them out, by any means necessary, I'm almost certain they aren't working alone," Fury pressed his hands against the dark grey desk, his eye focused upon the Captain as light faded from his pale features and a cold hard dread settled within his blue irises.

"I feel like this is only the beginning of something more…" Steve said, not only did this other icy mercenary pose a threat, but they were capable of things that were far beyond himself. If anything the Captain felt hopeless, he was here to protect people and as he listened to Fury's calm, strained words he could not help but wonder if he were able to do so.

"I'm sure it is, but we can cross that bridge when we get there, for now all I want is your eyes open, understood?"

Steve let loose a stiff breath. "Understood."

* * *

Alexander Pierce had felt a great sense of apprehension as he observed the many white coated doctors circle the thawing body, they poked and prodded and with each gesture he winced, just waiting for the experiment to seize one of their necks and squeeze the life from them.

He recalled the decisions that lead to the awakening of the dangerous dignitary, the conversation held with the black haired doctor now verifying the vitals of the experiment below him.

Pierce had been hauntingly aware of Director Fury's sudden suspicions of Project Insight and what its true intentions were, and so while consoling these inner thoughts he had turned on his heel and his eye caught that of the primitive, metal casing holding the experiment in suspended animation, the small glass insight foggy with white frost. A sudden, callous grin crept onto Pierce's lips; he knew exactly what needed to be done.

Ordering her awakening immediately, curious glances given by his loyal personnel but no outspoken words given, Pierce had presently given a photograph of the dignitaries comatose state with commands for it to be given to S.H.I.E.L.D anonymously with a dead-end source, when the dark haired doctor came up behind him, his tone steady but uncertain of his words.

"Sir, if you don't mind me being so bold, why are we waking her now? Could we not –"

Pierce prevented the end of the sentence falling from the dark haired man's mouth by clasping his white coated shoulder, simultaneously causing him to regret his brash words and become increasingly uncomfortable, Pierce was not a man of second chances, particularly given the current situations.

"You see, doctor," Pierce began; his voice low and full of hidden authority. "I cannot afford to loose such a brilliant mind as yours, not now anyway, and I also cannot afford Nick getting suspicious over Project Insight right now, not while it is still in progress. I need something to distract him to take his attention from it all, and what better way to test the Versuch than sending her in to cause a little bit of chaos."

"Pointless chaos?" the doctor failed to prevent the question.

"Time consuming chaos," Pierce corrected smoothly. "We need time doctor, time is precious to us."

"Could we not just bring him out?" the doctor said. "It would be a lot easier."

"No, not him, not yet." Pierce replied firmly. "I need something a little more disposable, that's why I'm waking her now."

"You're going to kill her after she's completed her orders?"

"Yes."

"Sir, she cannot be killed Herr Schmidt made sure of that, the energy inside of her is like nothing we've ever encountered before it's fused with her cells, her metabolism is heightened everything inside of her body is heightened," the doctor explained most of what Pierce already knew, he turned causing the man's hand to drop from his shoulder much to the doctor's relief.

"Including her emotions, Schmidt's greatest flaw with this experiment," Pierce answered his cryptic words falling on deaf ears. "Now," he started a dangerous tinge in his tone. "I pay you to work, not ask questions."

"Yes, sir," the doctor returned to his efforts, watching with the greatest of scrutiny the steady, strong heartbeat of the Versuch a position he rarely left, a few times he would take brief glances to the augmented human, dark sinister uniform and concealing mask giving her a treacherous air, one that was all too true. Besides that, tools and notes were handed to him by other lab assistants.

Pierce's hawk-like gaze drifted to the body, strong, alien metals holding down her potent power, his eyes settled and caught the tips of her pale, slender fingers twitch with consciousness, his eyes widened readily.

The monitors examining her sleeping state leapt into a frenzy of loud noise, startling most that stood around them, the dark haired doctor became stiller than a stone statue his mouth left slightly agape.

The Versuch's lids flashed open revealing her compelling, aberrant cerulean stare directed to the dull grey, concrete ceiling, finally Pierce saw it, the strong energy that swelled within the irises, a captivating luminosity trapped in them.

"Perhaps a little test run," Pierce said from on high, his gaze over the Versuch held in wonder, she was a true beauty; it seemed like such a waste, but a necessary one. "Let us see if Schmidt really did achieve the impossible."

* * *

_thoughts? not a very long chapter I know, but it seemed an appropriate place to end c:_

_reviews keep me writing & they are very much appreciated! c:_


	2. Ambushed

_**A**/**N -** Alright time for some back ground history, thank you for reading! c:_

* * *

_A U.S Army training base, 1942_

"Well, you are still in peak physical condition –" a doctor declared reaching across his desk to stamp a red inked 1-A on the young figures papers opposite him, "– and you certainly still look the part –" the man across the table smiled at this "– all in all I would say you are still fit for duty." The doctor gave a kind smile leaning back in his chair, a pen swivelling between his knowledgeable fingers. Aged, but not quite enough to be deemed old, the doctor was a kind soul with greying blonde hair slicked back with perhaps a little too much brylcreem.

The young, lithe man opposite was the spitting image, almost like a younger healthier version of the doctor himself, he wore a smart U.S military uniform, shirt buttoned all the way to the top and sandy coloured tie perfectly straight. He gazed at the older man almost tenderly with a pair of vivid bottle-green eyes; running a pale hand through his short blonde curls he fiddled with the edge of the cap that rested on his knees.

"I must remind you," the doctor said quietly before dismissing the third of a long line of recruits he had yet to examine. "What you are doing is highly illegal and I am also in the firing line should this go sour."

"I know," the soldier replied seriously with a perfectly articulated British accent, taking up his forged papers and tipping the dark green cap atop his blonde head. "And I'm forever grateful for what you've done."

The soldier stood turning to leave as he knew how many of the 107th the poor man had to trawl through at the request of their Sergeant, however the doctor's concern filled voice froze him for a brief moment.

"Listen, Ca –" he prevented the name slipping through his lips, a terrible false of habit as it had been difficult to become accustom to the new one. "_Archie,_"he stressed noticing the widening of the soldiers bright eyes in jolted alarm. "I understand why you want to do this, but I cannot help but fret over you."

The soldier, forcibly dubbed as Archie, provided the old worrier with a wide, reassuring, white toothed grin, which gave his striking eyes the appearance of dancing grass in a light breeze. "Papa, I'm a man now, I make my own choices in life and we both know I can take care of myself."

The doctor gave a light, wheezing chuckle as an applause of the soldiers choice of words, he may appear to be just another man in the regiment, yet whether it was simply by his doctor's eye that he noticed the femininity in his agile frame and high cheekbones, it seemed to fool the ones who mattered most.

"I know you can, I'm just an old fearful man."

Archie swiftly scooted round the doctor's cluttered table, dry, useless pens and paperwork that should have been filed away lay strewn across its wooden surface. He planted a soft peck on his father's withered cheek for comfort, eyes shooting around in a constant anxiety of being caught unaware.

"Have faith in me Papa, I will see you before we leave tomorrow morning," with a gentle, sorrowful smile Archie ducked out of the doctor's office, his father remaining silent a furrowed brow creasing his head. The line of recruits waiting for their assessment filed back hideously far, most drifting in and out of consciousness due to lack of sleep, others giving Archie potent glares as he went in search of his Sergeant as he had taken nearly an hour when in fact he should have only been half. Archie relished the time he spent with his father, as he knew it could be the last, whether by action or being found out.

Looking around him at the vast training camp, a small platoon of soldiers marched past him in heavy combat boots, their pounding footsteps thumping the dirt with dull, unified beats. Rifles pointed high into the evening skies. Archie had been here almost five months and still he felt hopeless, the beginnings of his illegal plan had started some years previous, unsettlement in Europe was common knowledge to him as he had received letters from his grieved, ailed mother frequently. He and his father had moved to Brooklyn from Durham when Archie was very young, his mother was unable to make the journey and so remained in the care of the London Hospital; unfortunately her terminal illness crept in slowly and claimed her fragile state a few months after Archie had enlisted. She knew nothing of her daughters unlawful actions, and Archie was glad he could keep it that way, he was in full awareness of his fate and the dire consequences should anyone realise he was in fact a she, Archie wanted to spare his frail mother from such heartbreaking news should he be discovered.

After much persuasion and an animated argument which resulted in a lot of pacing and raised voices, Archie's father, a practised doctor whom had been called to service once war had broken out, agreed to his daughters request of forging papers and giving her a special examination (one he was very surprised to find that she was not only as healthy as a butchers dog but also incredibly strong for her size) after many point blank refusals.

Deciding to take her grandfather's name, Archie, she cut her soft, silky blonde curls, something that she paid no mind to as she had always found her thick tresses to be highly cumbersome and a constant nuisance. It took a while for her father to grow on the name, slipping up a few times but never around important persons, it was a rarity now and when it did happen it was only when he was worried for her safety.

Archie flew through training, remarkably turning out better than some of the men, she came out the other side and was plonked into the 107th, she could not shake the feeling that her introduction to the Infantry had something to do with a certain Bucky Barnes, whom was now Sergeant of that particular squadron. She had happened across the plucky, handsome, dark haired soldier and his skinny childhood friend Steve Rogers on entry to the U.S Army. She could not help but feel slight pity for the small, blonde haired man as all she could see in his icy blue eyes was the same desperation to help the war effort, to her he seemed like the kind of man who knew what bullies looked like and possibly been at the runt end of a few fists in his time, however she did not see the desire to kill in his bright orbs like so many of the men she had trained with, she saw a willingness to stop tormenters; no matter where they came from. This drew her to him as it was a look she mirrored and a feeling she shared.

As for Bucky, their relationship was built on British and American stereotypes with a constant teasing nature shared by both sides, though in times of gravity, like Archie's mothers peaceful passing, they sought comfort in one another, Bucky referring to her as the brother he wished he had found sooner.

"If only you knew," Archie muttered under her breath with a light chuckle, she had left too much at home in Durham, more than she liked to give thought to, it was a saddening thought to even prosper over the fact of returning to British soil by the end of the week and not go back to the tiny little house on the end of the street; but it was an unwavering comfort to know that Bucky would be by her side even if she would never admit to him the sorrow she felt.

"Talking to yourself Tommy?" an amused voice dragged Archie away from her brimming thoughts, caught unaware it took her a brief moment to place the voice with its owner. Sergeant James Barnes himself stood in front of her, looking dapper as ever with his immaculate uniform and various badges, he held his cap under his arm, dark hair tousled yet still somehow neat. He was grinning, Archie mentally cursed at herself, evidently by his deep, repartee tones he had heard the little jest she aimed unknowingly at him.

"Not at all _Sergeant_, shouldn't you be preparing for tomorrow or something?" she leapt down from the steps leading to the doctor's office and halted in front of him, the smile drifted from his lips and grey eyes and he drew his back straighter than usual.

"I could have you court-martialled for that," he said seriously, for a brief moment Archie felt a jolt of panic strike her bound chest, but it soon flittered away as the bitten grin returned to his face, he was holding in laughter, clearly the alarm had settled on her ashen features. She nudged his arm playfully and scowled at him, she hated it when he did things like that, although she returned most of his jousting and so could not really complain all that much.

"The result?" Bucky prompted, holding his hand out for Archie's papers. She gladly offered them to him, a slight flicker of smugness deep down somewhere beneath all the troubles and fear.

Bucky flipped through the pages, his iced-blue eye catching the red 1-A, he failed to stifle a snort. "You're just full of surprises aren't you?"

"Just keeping you on your toes, Sir," Archie said with a satisfied smile, her striking bottle-green eyes found his for a brief moment before he handed back her papers, with a nod in recognition, she wondered why he had come down from his tent, surely there were preparations that needed attending too. "Is everything sorted for tomorrow?" she asked tucking her fake identity under her arm.

"Almost, I came to find you actually," he answered. "I'm dragging Steve to the Stark Expo tonight, I'd be glad of your company too; you might need to pull me from a crowd of beautiful dames."

Archie's curved brow shot up, it had not gone unnoticed by her that Bucky was indeed a fine-looking man, anyone with a good eyesight could see that plain as the blue sky above, but something about his way with the ladies made her cringe something terrible.

"Keep dreaming, Yank," she chorused with a light-hearted grin, unable to abstain from a short guffaw at his juvenile wounded expression. "Don't worry; I'll protect your pretty face from the rabid fingernails."

"Good," he straightened up again, coming to attention and saluting formally. "Soldier."

"Sergeant," she returned his gesture with a friendly smile and watched him turn on his heel and vanish among green tents, her slight curve never left her lips until she reached the dull, grey barracks which had been home for the last couple of months.

Heavy canvas bags sat on stripped beds ready for the morning in the dim gloom of the long, lightless room, Archie stopped in front of the second uncomfortable, metal frame and rolled down the lumpy mattress. Heaving the full weight of all her belongings she plonked her green canvas bag on top of the material, the springs beneath wailing in protest at the extreme bulk.

She carefully opened the cords and flap tucking her papers among clothes and small homely trinkets, a picture of her parents lay hidden among green and ammo pouches along with her small, intricately decorated comb; a mother's last birthday present to her daughter. She felt that familiar twinge pluck at her heart when her mind crossed over seas to her dear mother, both father and daughter were notified on her burial, next to the church like her parents.

Archie sighed bitterly and closed up the bag heading through the back of the room into the communal bathroom, a line of tattered white sinks were lined up in the centre of the small, white tiled vestibule, Archie had spent many a time surrounded by tall men having to 'shave' in order to maintain her appearance of masculinity, it was an odd process but it soon fell into routine. Most of the mirrors were shattered or broken and so it was incredibly difficult not to slice the soft skin of her cheeks with the cut-throat razor.

She moved past the sinks and locked herself into a grey, faded cubical. Unbuttoning her shirt and tie she loosened the tight bandages pressing against her chest, relieved from the constant ache it caused. Archie glanced down at her watch and noticed how late it was, her heart went out to her father who would be up the best part of the night with examinations, it seemed odd that they did not conduct them during the day, she was sure that the rest of the platoon would be glad of some respite from training.

With a long exhale, she stepped out of the cubical and proceeded to fasten the bandages again, frankly looking fairly unusual as she did so. Just as she was close to buttoning up her shirt again her keen gaze caught that of a figure in the door way, her heart leapt into her mouth as she froze, blinded by panic to do anything else.

Bucky stood in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, try as he did he could not tear his shocked gaze away from the binding around Archie's chest, his first thought was a wound perhaps, but no blood wriggled its way through the white material. The next assessment he failed to make as a half strangled, high intoned yelp escaped Archie's lips before she was able to stifle it.

"I don't believe what I'm seeing," Bucky stated, voice monotone and laced with incredulity, he could find no words for what he observed.

Archie stood suspended between fastening the buttons on her shirt and panicked shaking, she silently prayed in her head that Bucky was just a figment of her imagination and he was in fact somewhere else. But the sudden choked laughter belayed the thought.

"Why are you laughing?" Archie managed to force out, her voice strained and elevated with a tumbling mountain of fear upon fear and realisation that this was it, she had been caught and in the midst of all that came a very hasty, blurted sentence she was sure Bucky never quite understood.

"I don't believe it you actually managed it!" Bucky cried through his astonished chortling before Archie stuttered her fumbling response.

"You're my Sergeant you should be yelling at me, telling me that what I've done is highly illegal and that I should be thrown in jail not just standing there staring at me like I've just discovered the meaning of human life are you insane?!"

"You're so British, I love it," he answered with an affectionate grin, his deep tones one of revere for the woman. Archie glared at him in bewilderment unable to comprehend whether he really was mad, or perhaps understanding. "So, what's your real name?" he asked casually, leaning against the mite eaten doorframe as though this were a regular occurrence.

"Castiss," she answered, gaining some control over her erratic, thumping heart. Archie shook herself from her shock and quickly fiddled with the buttons until her chest was once again covered.

"Odd name," Bucky mused.

"Yeah," Archie answered shakily, forthrightly petrified of what her Sergeant may have had in mind for her future with the army. "What are you going to do?" the key question came as an insecure whisper.

"Nothing," Bucky said with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "You've got this far, why should I stop you now?"

Archie blinked hard, her immediate reaction was not to believe him, and she wondered whether he was secretly going to turn her in, but the playful look on his handsome visage said something else entirely.

Bucky strode over to her and slapped her on the shoulder, as was the usual between them. "Don't look so worried, Cass, I'm not going to turn you over to your death, what sort of a friend do you think I am?"

"That's not the reason is it?" Archie said with narrow eyes, knowing that the shortened version of her name was going to stick, that customary childish nature returned to the pair.

"What are you trying to say?" Bucky said feigning shock as he placed his hand on his chest.

"Oh, nothing, _Sergeant."_ Archie stressed. "You're a bloody idiot."

"And you're a jerk," he shoved her shoulder, feeling her tense stance relax with the teasing gesture. "I am still your Sergeant though, so –"

Archie raised a hand to silence him. "Bucky, you were my friend before you were my Sergeant."

Bucky laughed deeply. "That is very true, you should be glad I was the one who found you."

"Believe me I am," Archie said a terrified panic still gripping her words. "I can't ask you to keep my secret, you'll be in danger of loosing your job, or worse…" she shivered at the mere mention of it.

"You're not asking, I'm simply doing," he said with a kind smile fully aware of the consequences as Archie was. "And you can't protest," he added once she opened her mouth to retaliate and be the voice of reason. "I'm ordering you not to protest, understand?"

"Yes, sir." Archie said weakly, her thumping chest drumming down to its natural state; she slumped against the sinks, her nimble frame quivering slightly.

"Geez…" Bucky hummed rubbing the back of his head; this was not how he expected the clear day to go. "I've known you now for what… close to a year? I really had no idea, how did you even get past the medical exam?"

"My father, he's the on sight doctor here," Archie explained, clawing at her face in repose, the jolt of dread she had felt was petrifying and she mentally made note to take extra care. "He gave me a special medical exam, and like you was very surprised with the results."

"It's genius really," Bucky praised.

"Thank you…" Archie nodded her brow furrowing, "…I think."

"Are you going to tell Steve?"

Archie turned pink with discomfiture, prompting suspicion from her Sergeant. "The truth of the matter is the little man already knows," she bit her lip as disbelief glazed Bucky's eyes again. "He guessed actually, it was highly alarming although seeing as though he wasn't getting any closer to the uniform I didn't worry too much."

"What you both lack in brawn you make up in intelligence," Bucky said nodding, still processing the hour's events in his head.

"Was that a compliment?" Archie raised an eyebrow, flashing him a grin.

"Absolutely not," Bucky replied making for the door. "Come on, punk, we need to leave."

Archie frowned for a brief moment, fastening her tie and dusting off her jacket shoulders, then she remembered her promise to accompany him to the Stark Expo, she sighed, what she would really love right now was a good cup of tea and a nice warm bed, knowing she was going to get neither any time soon she reluctantly followed her Sergeant out of the barracks; her lethargic pace less than enthusiastic. Archie had never really paid much heed to the supposed genius of Howard Stark, science was indeed interesting but Archie was more inclined to the medical side rather than the side Stark played for.

She fell into step beside Bucky, colour returning to his face as a smile crept onto his lips, Archie felt suddenly reassured in the knowledge that she had one person in the regiment she could speak to freely, and she was more than delighted knowing it was Bucky. While strolling past snoring soldiers, the darkness of night falling over the camp casting long, gloomy shadows among grey buildings and green tents an unexpected thought occurred to her; they were shipping out tomorrow, it was finally happening.

"You know," Bucky began leaning over to her as they walked, breaking her concentration. "I'm really glad I didn't find you a date."

"So am I Buck, so am I…"

* * *

The Stark Expo was exactly what Cass imagined it to be, big, loud, full of bright lights and silly girls falling at the feet of the genius Howard Stark, their behaviour often made her question whether she was female, as all she saw when her bottle-green gaze fell upon the fool was an ego larger than Big Ben and a face which roused two things, the desire to participate in a passionate kiss or the burning sensation to strike the coquettish smirk right off his face, Cass always found herself leaning toward the latter.

She mostly hung back with Steve, a shy man she was fond of his company; they spoke of what ever came to mind which mainly resulted in a lot of laughter. Both hated how close and stifling the crowd was, Cass felt sure that the only reason many people were here was for a certain Stark, she had lost count of the amount of times she had rolled her pretty eyes at this.

The evening was uneventful in Cass's eye, she felt the tug of sleep pulling at her limbs and her thoughts became distracted by the awaiting incidents of the dawn. Once Steve had made his exit, Cass was not far behind, much to Bucky's disappointment she retreated back to the barracks for some well needed rest, she felt both physically and mentally drained from the day's events (training took a beating from everyone) and was unsettled on what tomorrow would bring. With an understanding smile and a parting hearty shake of the shoulder, Bucky left with his two girls who were now practically on their knees begging him for a dance, Cass was glad she escaped when she did she had never really been one for dancing.

Once back in the security of her dim, grey barrack few beds were left unoccupied, she slumped into her own only shrugging of her jacket and tie for the smile reason of having no energy to do much else. Her head fell against the hard pillow and after much tossing and turning she fell into a troubled sleep, a strange darkness clinging to the corners of her mind until the light of early morning chased it away.

The dawn drew up a pink and orange cloud scattered sky, it filtered through the windows of the barrack rousing everyone from fretted rest; Cass sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes wishing she could have had longer in the peaceful darkness. Orders were barked across the camp and men filed out of their tents and barracks, belongings heaved up on broad shoulders and morning grogginess still clinging to their faces.

All about the men on the ship there was an air of tension, fear crept into the eyes of the strongest, people Cass recalled being valiant in training, however as Bucky had stressed many times, war was nothing like training. Cass was thankful that the seas were calm, for the ship swayed gently from side to side and she was caught out by spells of dizzy nausea more than once, only God knew how she would have faired in fouler weather.

Event after event saw them being moved through into Europe and in the days that followed Cass found herself and the 107th a few miles behind enemy lines, the constant fear of ambush heavy among the men, cheerlessness seemed to be the only emotion elicited by them and while a few sat around a small fire, Bucky to her left, laden with troubles far beyond the present, Cass decided to do something about it.

"Hey do you want to have a rousing discussion about truth, honour, patriotism?" Cass leapt up suddenly from her sitting position beside Bucky startling him somewhat, her corny American accent perfection, deep and full of teasing seriousness. She stood tall and puffed her bound chest out, thumping it with her fist as she paraded around the glowing fire, yellow shadows jumping across her bright and beaming features. "I sure as hell bet Uncle Sam was glad you signed up!" she pointed to a man who's ego was the size of an African elephant which only made her jest fall harder on his shoulders and make it all the more amusing for the rest of the company.

"Stop it!" Bucky protested, holding his aching ribs desperately trying to gain control. "I can't take another word!" he wiped away a mirth filled tear as it grew in the corner of his eye and fell with his shaking shoulders.

All around her broken men and hopeless souls were falling about, gripping there sides in deep howls of barking laughter some even stumbling to the floor unable to control their joviality. In the centre of it all a small spark of satisfaction glowed within her chest, even now when they were cold, abandoned and potentially facing a petrifying death at any given moment, she managed to make them all smile and nothing made her more happy to see it; men who had given up laughing like children as if all the worries and troubles of the world evaporated like the smoke trailing away on the light chill from their little fire.

"Thank you," Bucky murmured, strained from his failed attempt at stifling his chuckling, Cass plonked her nimble frame back down at his side, a wide smile creasing her lips. He could not help but grin with her, even though they both understood what came next, a cheery morale among the company would make it a damn sight easier.

The fire spat out at them and dimmed, sighing Cass realised that the wood pile beside it had all been used, she yanking her frame back up again and gazed out at the darkness, tall trees like skeletons as moonlight flittered down from above illuminating the branches like gnarled fingers.

"I'm going to find some more firewood," she said, bravely moving from the circle of men who had all managed to gain control over themselves and were now talking quietly, some animatedly, and others simply cheerful again. "I'll be back in a minute or two."

"Any longer and I'll send a search party," Bucky warned, a genuine concern in his deep tones. Cass merely nodded in recognition and slipped silently among tents, easing her way over their ropes and into the surrounding forest.

The chill in the night's air prickled Cass's cheeks, the sinister trees towering above her unsettling to say the least, she trod carefully through the leafy ground, her battered combat boots making nearly no noise as she scanned the ground for anything deemed fire worthy. Drawing her green padded jacket closer she shivered with the cool air.

It did not take her long to gather up some small twigs and larger fallen branches; she had not strayed too far from the camp and was on the return trip, guided by the flicker of flames in the distance, when an audible snap of tree bark froze her solid. She held the wood close to her chest, head craning to the right, acting on trained instinct her free hand, numbed with the cold, trailed down her leg and slender fingertips brushed a leg holster.

Unable to keep her grip on the logs they slid from her grasp and hit the dirt below with a deafening thud, this was her downfall. With swift adrenaline fuelled reaction she took up her colt and cocked it with a fleeting gesture, whipping around on the spot she squeezed out the magazine high into the canopy of the nearest tree, she did not know if her slugs met their targets because all she had time for was a shrill, roaring screech to her comrades behind.

"_Ambush!"_

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	3. Changed

_**A**/**N - **thank you for the follows and favourites and what not! this chapter was very hard to get down and is a little shorter than the others, I hope it's alright c:_

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The dull throbbing of rapid gunfire pounded against broken ears and bleeding frames, blurry eyes strained to see the bloody battlefield around, the paleness of dawn revealed a body strewn forest floor. Cass gripped her hammering head, a chorus of ringing shots firing inside her cranium, the world was muted from split eardrums and crimson edged from them. Clumsy with delirium, Cass hauled herself off the scarlet leaves and staggered forward tripping over the man she had made jest of not moments ago, his glossy, wide eyes unblinking in the morning sun.

A pair of strong arms encased her shuddering, blood flecked body, gripping the thick padded material and dragging her limp weight to the safety of a large, defended tree trunk. Ducking behind it, the canopy of its thick branches stretched far and gave a great deal of cover, what remained of the 107th stood fast and held their ground; the vicious onslaught which had escalated into full skirmish took place among the dense undergrowth.

Cass blinked hard and focused her mind onto battle, forcing her aching head memory to recall all the months of training, adrenaline pumped through her system once again and she drove on. Her bright sight more than relived to see a dirty, blood smeared Bucky holding his own beside her, his broad frame leant against the trees thick trunk as he shoved a fresh magazine into the metal and squeezed off round after round at the on coming adversaries.

Cass reached down to the tough, brown leather holster swaying from Bucky's belt and fiddled with the clasp, her pale, sweating hands brushing the pressed U.S symbol. She took up his unused colt and stole away a few magazines from their respective canvas ammo pouches. Cass loaded the trusty handgun, cocking it swiftly, and with a deep, controlling breath she peek from the opposite side of the trunk and loosed the bullets taking three Jerry's down with them.

Both she and Bucky swung round back to the cover of the trunk, their shoulders clashing together at an incredible force, the natural chemicals riling through their limbs delaying the shooting pain they would have felt.

Heavy machine gun fire peppered the trees bark, splinters of wood shot up and large fragments spun outward planting inside the chests of the few who remained. Cass felt Bucky's hand grip her arm and jerk her trembling body down, he leant beside her in a protective crouch his struggling breaths loud against her numb ears. Cass felt sick, no amount of training could have prepared her for the horrors she witnessed, friends fell and men cried out for death to claim them, what she had learnt in those short months only gave her the initiative to know how to act, the petrified emotions and racing heart were not spoke of in the comforting walls of the barracks.

The roaring of the guns fell abruptly silent, the tittering sounds of settling metal cooling sprung up amidst the smoky desolation. Nothing but bated breath and sore limbs were left quivering where they stood.

Cass sensed Bucky's weight shift, dead leaves beneath battered boots rustling importunately, he made to move to the cluster of soldiers huddled within the bushes but brutal hands grabbed his shoulders and threw him to the dirt in the centre of the chaos. Cass jolted, her heart leaping into her mouth, forceful gestures sent her rolling onto her back and she too was pressed against the soil.

Her bright, vivid eyes stared widely to an oncoming black mass. The soldier loomed over her, bayonet inches from slicing her soft cheek, his unfeeling, cold glare saw right through her, a silver skull pin blanched in the blood of the innocent sat proud on his lapel.

The soldier snarled at Cass in his own language and it was not until he began to roughly drag her from the ground and Bucky's shrill yells split the air did she understand the words.

"_Move!"_

Cass scrambled to her feet the tight grip on her arm sending ripples of pain lancing through the muscle; she felt the sharpened metal dig into her back as she was ordered to raise her hands above her head like the rest. Stealing a glance around at the broken men, out of the two hundred who had come only twenty stood here now, the others lying motionless at their feet.

She had not known panicked fear until this hour, shoved into a disordered line she saw the deep dread on bloody faces, Bucky's cavalier façade hardened and void of anything only Cass could see the broken glint in his iced-blue eye.

Orders were barked and the line was forced onward, the day and a half trek saw the numbers dwindle down to seventeen in total. Cass dared not utter a word throughout the entire march, for a man had tried once and his head was split open for the trouble.

The remaining company had resigned themselves to the unthinkable truth, being a prisoner of war held no hope for a future, and each man came to slowly realise this as they sat in their circular cells surrounded by rust and decay.

Bucky was the last man to be shoved inside the cramped prisons, he landed harshly on his front, a low groan of pain leaving his lips as he pushed his arms up. Turning to face the calloused, repulsive grin of the black uniformed soldier, his face contorted into that of purest hatred, his grey eyes fell onto the struggling, fierce frame of Cass.

She lashed out viciously at the two soldiers tussling to keep her controlled; she used any free body parts to resist their strong grips and fierce words. The soldiers called out in their own language and from out of the long shadows a tall figure emerged, Bucky narrowed his eyes dangerously trying to see through the gloom.

Light cast down on Cass's ashen complexion, and he could see the horror strike her vivid bottle-green orbs, they broadened in fear as terror struck her drumming heart. The figures jaw clenched and moved, although Bucky could not hear his soft words, Cass began to shake her head violently her body jolting in constant attempts at escape. She failed to hold still and was soon at the mercy of a rifle butt slamming into her skull.

"_Cass!" _ he roared, face pressing hard against the cold, rusting metal bars of his circular prison, in his haste and desperation he overlooked the fact that Cass was supposed to be Archie. His strong arms frantically reached forward through the small gaps as if he could pull her limp body away from the soldier's arms.

The shadowy figure waved a hand and he vanished behind concrete, the two soldiers heaving Cass's unconscious state away.

Bucky leapt to his feet, startling the men behind him, his cast iron grip on the cell bars unwavering, his furious glare turned to that of a young soldier stood on guard, back straight and rifle barrel pointing to the high ceiling.

"Where are they taking her?" he demanded, no room for argument nor lies in his deep commanding tones.

The young, black uniformed soldier gazed at the grated floor, his mouth twisting into a disturbed, shaking gesture, his eyes told appalling tales of what his superiors conducted below them and his heavily accented, muttered answer was enough to break Bucky's resolve like fragile glass.

"… they are taking her to the Labs."

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"_Did it work…?"_

"_Have I done it…?"_

The hesitant, accented voice blossomed with anticipation; the pimple of a man's gloved hand stroking the supple skin of his experiments colourless cheek. He could not tear his eyes away from the beauty, the soft, ashen and fragile body soon to be given a physical power unlike any other.

Tethered with thick, leather bonds, Cass's unconscious being lay flat on a cold, metal table, trays of abhorrent tools either side of her. A large glass syringe glowed with an unnatural cyan hue, its contents swirling around like genetically enhanced water, a small drip of liquid ebbed from the long, thick needles tip.

Somewhere within the darkness a spark ignited, Cass's heavy lids drooped open, her aching cranium only aware enough to see the edge of the needle and the straps holding her inert, her body thrashed as she struggled against the bonds. The syringe was raised to her arm slowly, the small man pressing against her shoulder whispering soft words.

'VERSUCH – 01' had been sliced into the skin of her left forearm with dark blue, indelible ink, just like the millions of those with numbers written there instead. Cass stared intensely, her striking green eyes boring fiercely into the man's squinting, concentrated orbs as if she willed him to catch aflame.

"This will be easier if you do not struggle."

The 107th had been in troubled rest when they heard it, simultaneously jolting them out of the peaceful darkness and into a dim, screeching world; the screams that resonated through dense walls below their feet were tortured, guttural and piercing. They were prolonged and full of suffering agony, cells mutated with primitive mechanisms and conjecture at the will of a vile madman.

When they sounded what quiet conversations were held among them fell instantly silent, awful grimaces and harsh winces shared by all. Bucky never moved, frozen he held the bars within a grip so tight it sent his knuckles palest white, Cass's agonized shrieks ricocheting through his ears well after the brief moments of stuttered silence. Even when they came to take him away, his mind was laden with her afflicted calls and he found no strength to fight off his captors.

A cold, dead numbness burned like fire in her limbs, the jerked movements of her body no longer efforts to escape but her warm flesh rejecting the poison surging through her limbs.

The tall figure who had spoken in the gloom now stood in front of her writhing frame, his dark eyes set upon the small doctor as he continued his work, pushing needle after needle into Cass's frail skin and forcing his ears to drive past the strangled cries for death.

One final, animalistic scream forced through gritted teeth snapped the tough leather binding her left arm down, the great surge of energy flittered up veins and to her fist in a vicious strike which sent the soldier positioned on guard soaring through the air and hammering straight into the concrete wall, deep cracks forming where his body met stone.

The stout doctor drew himself away, the syringe in his grip faltering and shattering to the ground. The figure who had been flexing his jaw uncomfortably stepped forward, heavy black boots thumping the ground. Venomous, unnatural, cerulean eyes glared at him, held within them was a cyan power ripped from an unworldly source, augmented muscles and enduring pain settled leaving a successful attempt.

"She's perfect," the tall man murmured with satisfaction, his dark gaze settled upon the augmented frame staring deeply through him with an odd sense of fascination. "Wipe her memories and put her on ice, Doctor."

"But Herr Schmidt, are we not going to use her?" the small man asked, the euphoria of his accomplishment falling away and a bafflement forming instead.

"Oh no Dr. Zola," the officer purred. "Her time is not now, but I assure you it will come soon enough."

He turned his back on the doctor, the small man left with mouth slightly agape, the profound fear he felt for the man overpowered him and he carried out his orders immediately.

Cass could feel the tips of her life being pulled from her brain, a slow, seeping darkness closing around her eyes as synthetic frost solidified her augmented body in suspended animation, a final apologetic heartbeat thumping against her chest…

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Captain Steve Rogers took a few light steps forward, famed shield held firmly in his grasp, hoarse mutterings reached his ears as he inspected the remaining labs, looking around he found the man he had been searching for, tethered down to a metal operating table eyes wide and glossy with delirium.

"Bucky!" the Captain's voice reverberated around the cold room; he scrambled over to his friend with four, well placed, long strides. Bucky groaned, his eyes unable to focus because of a horrid dizzy nausea overwhelming his now inferior frame.

Steve broke the metal clasps on the thick, brown leather bands holding him prisoner with augmented ease. He lifted Bucky's shaking limbs to a sit gently, the confused man griped Steve's broad shoulders and begun blinking in surprise, muzzy and unable to comprehend his friend's dramatic expansion in size.

"It's me," he said quietly. "It's Steve."

"Steve…?" Bucky's disorientation prevented the information from processing.

"Come on," Rogers urged conscious of how little time he had left, he held Bucky in strong arms as he swung himself round and attempted to stagger to his feet. "I thought you were dead," the Captain held a great sense of wanted relief in his chest.

As he straightened, Bucky became suddenly aware of Steve's new size, his brow furrowed in deep bewilderment. "I thought you were smaller…"

Steve helped Bucky stand until he steadied himself and was eventually able to see clearly again, a dull throb settled in the back of his skull but he paid no heed to it as there was a larger concern in his iced blue eyes. An unease which he shared with the Captain, it aggrieved him to think of how he never saw those striking, bottle-green eyes among the trapped, never heard a loud holler of his name in repose and delight, he and never saw the pale, mischievous visage of Castiss Liddell, dirty and sweating like the rest.

Steve motioned for Bucky to follow; it was only a matter of a few short minutes before Hydra soldiers would be crawling through the entire base. He was evident on bringing everyone home, and by that he meant down to the last solider, and Cass was one of the best.

"Steve, where are you going?" Bucky called in a low undertone as Rogers had turned left instead of right once they reached the door, the metal corridor was abandoned, eerily silent much like the deep breath that was taken before the orders were given. Steve supposed that the labs like the one they had just left would all be on the same floor, he had to find her; one thing he knew for sure was that he was not leaving until he did.

"What did they do with Cass?" Steve provided as a blunt answer, glimpsing briefly through the tough glass of the next metallic door they loped past, seeing it to be empty he sprinted onwards, determined. Bucky realised how much force he had to push through his aching legs in order to keep up with a man he was inured to running circles around. He reached for his friends muscled shoulder in order to halt him, there was stark pain in his eyes and it was a furrowed look he mirrored with Steve. Bucky had had a long time to resign himself down to the cold, unthinkable truth.

"Steve, they took her away the moment we got here, she wasn't even locked up with the rest of us…" he trailed off for a beat, recalling the tortured screams and pleas for death, they plagued his darkest dreams when he was able to fall into troubled sleep. It was something such a chipper being should ever have had to endure; the moment in which they fell silent was when he knew that there was no hope, not until now. "She's gone Steve," was what he settled on, sombre and with eyes glistening clear anguish.

"No," Steve forced out, half choked with disbelief. "No, I don't believe you."

Bucky looked him straight in the eye and feigned a cavalier façade, he should not have battened down the dull pain in his chest, she deserved every bit of his broken grief, but he found it easier this way as seeing the pure agony he shared in the Captain's eye was pain enough.

"I'm sorry," Bucky breathed. "But I heard the screams…"

The tortured screeches still lingered in his darkened mind, but there was a spark that was never doused inside of him, the shattered heartache of a splintered chest that somehow knew, even with the decisive evidence of his ears, she was not dead.

Steve looked upon his friend with new eyes, the clear melancholy brimming and falling from the iced-blue pools, one that he did not mention, instead he took Bucky's shoulder gave it a good shake and turned his back allowing them both to have a brief moment to gather themselves up.

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	4. Memories

_**A**__/__**N – **__hello! here's you're next chapter (all aboard the feels train, sorry in advance), thank you so much for the reviews and follows they mean an awful lot to me and they keep me motivated to write! enjoy! c:_

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She was late again and travelling down the Whitehurst Freeway at perhaps a faster rate than she would have felt comfortable with, though the morning had been a rushed blur and the kids were not at their dads yet and work was still a half hour drive away, she had so many distracting thoughts probing her mind and the two occupants of the back seats were not helping at all.

A childish row had broken out between the two siblings, it had been an ongoing quarrel which had begun at breakfast; the typical brother sister feud. The younger of the two, the brother had recently received a new video game which, when he was in one of his brighter moods, he had allowed his sister to have a go at. Both of them had hit the same wall, level twelve was proving difficult to master.

Both were now in the process of out doing the other, snide remarks thrown left, right and centre in order to catch each other off guard, it was wearing their stressed mother thin and she slowly started to feel her resolve falling apart.

"I told you it was the left one!"

"No, you go through the right one and then on to the left!"

"Look, you go through the left one, believe me I've played it longer than you!"

"That makes no difference!"

Their mother's head thumped against the steering wheel in frustration, her children's high voices dug deep in her already pounding head, there was no doubt she loved them dearly but they did cause such a noise when they battled one another.

"Please," she said calmly, her tone one of persuasion. "Please can we stop bickering, it's just a game after all."

Her plea for silence fell on deaf ears and only seemed to lift the children's voices further, both were practically screaming at one another now and somewhere under their mothers balance between stress and serenity something shattered.

"_Both of you be quiet I'm trying to concentrate on the road,_" she seethed through clenched teeth, her dark resonance not raised in anger but clear fury could be heard. "Would you like to have an accident?"

The siblings, wide eyed with terror, shook their heads wildly.

"Good, now_ what's_ going on?" the woman said thumping a hand against the grey steering wheel in aggravation, a significant amount of thick, black smoke had caught her attention, tearing her eyes away from the bickering offspring behind she saw no traffic cones signifying a collision nor any police cars, whether they were doused in the lingering smoke she could not see.

"Brett would you _please_ shut the hell up!" the young girl said through gritted teeth, her juvenile brother's constant jibes creating vast irritation.

"Lily don't talk to your brother like that," their mother rebuked half-heartedly, something within her was breaking, but she had no energy to express it.

"He started it!"

"No I didn't, you're such a liar!"

"Both of you quit it!" she shrieked gripping the wheel tightly and whipping her head around to the squabbling siblings, her burgundy curls briefly covering her face as she endeavoured to separate them, which was her fatal mistake.

The black cloud trailed away into the sky, a mass behind it moving forward along the road, a dark figure emerged from the smoke like calm water, navy tinted lenses covering venomous eyes and a canvas mask concealing the lower face making the stature impossible to differentiate. In full awareness of the oncoming car, driving at a speed that was perhaps a little too fast for the road they ran over, the dignitary never slowed in their focused pace.

"_MOM!" _ Lily had screeched, her breath caught in her throat creating a strangled cry of horror, the call came too late and her small voice merged with the yells of her brother forming a collective scream at the shadowy figure.

The woman's reaction time was lethargic, her heeled boot pressing firmly down on the wailing brakes belatedly, the car surged forward threatening to hit the figure with all its large weight, yet in a single second right before the grate grazed the dignitaries augmented body, a powerful fist drove into the silver bonnet, the metal caving in on itself with the violent force. The cars wheels howled in protest at the abrupt strength and the entire vehicle was flipped horizontally rising into the air and ascending above the figure, they bent backwards to avoid the metal casing as it moved past them, crashing into the tarmac a few metres away, upturned on its roof, panicked, choked screams of pain coming out of shattered windows.

The figure straightened mechanically, their strong body lifted and turned toward the vehicle, the metal creaked and glass surrounded the silver Nissan SUV balanced precariously on its roof. Cars hurtling past in the opposite lane did the standard human reaction, continued onward as someone else would take the burden. The cars in the same lane screeched to a halt, passengers and drivers alike staring in horror at the carnage and dense smoke.

The shadowy dignitary stepped over to the upturned Nissan; the occupant's piercing wails perforating to their heightened senses. The mother, blanched with her own blood struggled under the crushing weight of the car, calling desperately to her unconscious children, the younger almost certainly dead as he lay in a pool of deep crimson, his limp, small body awkwardly laying on the cars roof. The woman who had been late for work dragged her painful frame out of the driver's seat and flipped over so she was no longer upside-down, her blood edging down her make-up thick cheeks from a deep wound on her skull. Head turned to the shattered windows she saw tough, black boots cross the murky concrete toward them the smashed glass cracking under the thick rubber soles, her eyes widened and the cries became strident pleas.

An ashen, leather fingerless-gloved hand reached through the passenger window and gripped the woman's throat, all augmented forced writhing through veins and to the closed fist, her screams were cut short as her windpipe collapsed, her still struggling body hauled through the window and raised like a trophy into the air, suspended as she choked.

The woman stared at the black uniformed dignitary, the abnormality of the Versuch's luminous cerulean orbs shining through the navy tinted lenses in pure vehemence, she clawed defiantly at the Versuch's hands but never so much as broke the pale skin before her last breath was caught.

The masked soldier dropped the woman to the tarmac, her body slumped against the floor, lifeless and never going to reach work again, late or otherwise. The Versuch's keen ears picked up muffled sobs from the wreckage, stepping nimbly over the mother's broken body she peered through the back window and saw the eldest sibling half delirious with concussion and blood loss, wide doe eyes searching for answers.

The Versuch straightened, leapt deftly into the air and kicked out viciously, the power in her muscles forcing the car to scrape across the road, however before it reached the edge of the tarmac a heavy weight landed upon it, halting the debris in its tracks. Splinters of glass shook from the ground and hit the Versuch, her head snapped back adroitly, the sharp points only cascading over her covered face and lenses. A flash of red whipped by and the screaming girl was gone from within the metal cage.

The broad figure stood sturdy on the upturned car appeared in separate, tinted fragments to the Versuch, the shard of glass that had struck her black, navy lens goggles had fractured the coloured glass, raising a hand she pulled them from her face with two slender fingers, flaxen tresses dancing with the motion.

The man became clear and whole, she stared at him dangerously, in his tight grasp a circular shield, patterned with the colours of America, where the colour was once bright and vibrant, it was now dulled with many outings and battles, he stood straight with a military air about him, a silver star on his chest; the very life of patriotism.

She stared at it for a moment, strangled recollection to the silver star glazing her aberrantly bright eyes before the force of orders pushed such thoughts away and a low growl sounded deep in her throat. She lunged for him, using the height of the dividing pale grey bollards to push her body up into the air and onto the under side of the car. They tussled for a time, each strike vicious and with full intentions for the others demise.

Steve pelted his famed shield at the Versuch, she nimbly turned her lithe frame to the side in order to avoid the spinning metal as it whizzed past her turned features, the metal struck off a black jeep hidden among the smoke startling the hired men inside, Steve caught the circular shield with ease on its return, his arm only moving back slightly with the impact.

The Versuch dove down from the silver cars wreckage, stealing away into the cover of the black smoke, watching with keen hawk eyes as the Captain narrowed his in an attempt to see her vanished frame, he leapt down and landed with a heavy thud on the road, running into the dense gas gaze constantly wary for the threat.

The Versuch used the black jeep to swing her body around and strike the Captain in the jaw with both booted soles, his head jolted back and his vision blurred briefly as pain clouded his mind. Where Steve stood his ground when fighting, the Versuch forced her lithe, powerful frame into any space available, and if there was no room for her body she would make room. Smashing the black jeep to one side, paying no heed to the allied occupants, she hurtled herself forward, combats heavy on the concrete.

Steve readied himself and as the Versuch's lissom frame ascended the air once again he brought his fist up in a brutal upper cut catching her in the masked jaw, she twisted back with the impact of his blow feeling the material leave her mouth. She flipped neatly in a complicated motion and landed on her feet in a low crouch on the road, hand placed to the cool ground for stability. Her bright, sapphire eyes trailed the canvas mask as it looped along the floor, stopping at the Captain's black boots.

The intensity and sheer abruptness of his recognition temporarily set him off balance, Steve felt each emotion hit him like a knife in the chest, twisting his heart into an awful knot of anger, sorrow and point-blank refusal to accept what his eyes saw.

"Cass…?" his voice was shaken, breathy with the effort of the fierce fighting.

From her low stance, the Versuch's head tilted to the side in a loose from of bewilderment. "I'm sorry, who?" she echoed, her light tones smooth, her heart rate only slightly elevated.

"Steve!" A red haired woman called, hands crimson with the unfortunate girls blood, her diminishing state now safely in a hospital. She had appeared behind them, dull green eyes set upon the desolation the Versuch and the Captain had caused. "We need to lead her away from the road!"

Steve searched the freeway, his mind reeling but he did not have time to think on things now, he forced himself to focus. The carnage of crashed cars and thick smoke was impossible to see past, leaping once again onto the upturned silver SUV his blue eyes caught that of the roads below, traffic had been stopped by S.H.I.E.L.D agents and he could see no way of leading the Versuch to somewhere that was not busy with people and cars.

He turned, frantic, and his gaze settled upon the Versuch, she had not moved and looked like a panther ready to strike its prey. There was venom in her blue-eyed glare, not the soft kindness and hidden fierceness of the striking emerald orbs they once were, settled in the corners now was a pure, unwavering hatred toward what she herself was doing and for those who had caused it still unable to distinguish why she felt that way. Steve could sense it, every strike she had thrown and every move she had made was full of contempt and confusion, and it pained him to see it, to notice how when she stared deeply into his ice coloured irises and have no memory of him, just simple orders to follow.

She was nothing but a hollow shell, a ghost of what she once was, this world was not as she remembered, these people were not hers, there were no washing lines strung across houses with sheets dancing gently in the breeze, just busy streets and crowded roads, bright lights and choked city fumes. Bewildered and in a world she did not understand was enough to make the Versuch incredibly dangerous, all she had was her orders but this man, this blonde haired man with broad shoulders and powerful strength was not as she saw, she saw a small, skinny, shy little man desperate to do the right thing.

Steve looked to the red haired woman, an unspoken sentence hanging on her lips; he knew what he needed to do. Raising his right arm up slowly he brought the hidden communicator to his lips and murmured quietly into it; "Nat, check the perimeter, see if there are any wounded and get them to safety, I've got this sorted."

Natasha gave one nod in recognition before disappearing over the edge of the freeway and down onto the roads below.

Twisting his body to face the Versuch, Steve took a breath; he needed to make her remember, although he was not entirely sure how he was going to do so.

The Versuch had made an imperceptible movement, mind laden with bewilderment which was burning deep in her head, it soon turned to that vehement anger that derived from her heightened senses and emotions. She lashed out at the super-soldier, her agile frame moving swiftly, she crashed into his hard chest knocking him from the cars belly, his back landed horribly on the safety rails of the freeway; the Versuch used her hand and knee to render Steve inert. All the soldier could do was watch as his metal shield tumbled over the side and down onto the roads beneath, its metallic wails drifting on the breeze.

"Stop this!" Steve shouted as the Versuch raised a fist high ready to pound his jaw, she paused suspended there while he spoke, his tones low and soft. "You don't want to hurt me, you know me."

"You are mistaken."

"No, no I'm not, you know who I am; you just need to concentrate. I'm your friend."

A perilous glint flashed in her cold cerulean stare and her voice blared like pure fury, strident and full of rejection. _"SHUT UP!" _

She threw her clenched fist down onto the Captain's cheek splitting the skin.

"_NO!_" Steve roared back ignoring the pain, he had made the mistake of leaving her behind once, he was not about to resign himself down to doing it again. "I'm not letting you go again, I left you back then and there hasn't been a day since that I don't regret it."

The Versuch suddenly gripped his neck firmly, all that pain and anger coursing through into her augmented power and unwavering strength driving it into her fists as she wrestled the air from his lungs. Steve squirmed in her taut grasp, clawing at her hands in desperation and as her aberrant irises connected with his wide, pleading orbs she stopped, suspended in a glaze of haunting recollection. He had choked out a name with the remaining breath he held, a last attempt at triggering her tampered memories; _Bucky_. Horror struck her, an overwhelming emotion, her lithe body jolted and she released the Captain, his heavy body falling to the ground; harsh strangled breaths heaving his lungs painfully.

It was as if all the revulsions of the world had blinked before her eyes and everything settled in front of her in violent images and old-fashioned merriment, the laughter of friends and the unendurable agony of the torture she had been subjected to. Needles piercing her cold, fragile skin and guttural screeches for death to come, but it never did.

"Steve…?"

"Yes!" Steve called, voice rasping with pain, yet his desperation was clear. "It's me, Cass, it's Steve…"

"…Steve," she fell to her knees limply, her whole augmented frame trembling with cruel tremors, hands bloody with the crimson of her own friend she broke inside. Her soul shattered like glass, as foggy memories flooded her empty cranium, eyes swelling with the fruits of her destructive and murderous labour.

"It's alright," Steve consoled, massaging his throat which had now taken on the qualities of sandpaper. "It's over."

He heaved his body glaringly forward, skin dragging over splintered glass which sliced his flesh, though he did not pay heed to the dampness of blood as it started to seep through his uniform, he forced his strong frame up and gripped the Versuch by the shoulders drawing her dead weight to him.

She recoiled away from him, pushing her body back staring into his eyes she began shaking her head, it was not over; not yet. "No…" she muttered before hauling her powerful frame off the glass covered road in such a fleeting, rapid movement it took Steve a moment to realise she had scrambled to her feet.

The Versuch bolted to the edge of the freeway leaping over the concrete bars.

Steve gripped the rail and leant over it so swiftly he thought he may tip over the edge, steadying himself he watched as the Versuch flew down at an increasing rate landing harshly in a low crouch, the solid tarmac beneath her thick boots fracturing in crossed directions. By the time he had yelled her name she had already vanished among tall, close buildings, Natasha's words back in Fury's office coming to him; _she's a ghost untraceable and impossible to track_.

* * *

The dark haired doctor had just fixed the small, clear earpiece back in when he heard it. Walking down the close, concrete corridor back to the large open lab, he could hear faint noises coming from behind him, he turned slowly and was blinded by a shadowy frame gripping his neck and forcing his back against the wall.

"Where is he?" a voice demanded, low and cold it prickled the doctor's neck with unyielding fright, opening his instinctively closed eyes he found the hardened glare of the VERSUCH – 01 beating down on him like fire.

"I-I don't know who you mean…" the man managed to choke out, although Cass did not hold him tightly, it was enough to cause his calm voice to raise a few octaves.

"The one who woke me, _where is he?" _she did not leave room for an argument, her burdened mind teemed with so many confused thoughts, things she thought were real, things she did not, everything was cross-wired and her brain pounded in agony, the article she most wanted to deal with was the one who had roused her from peaceful rest and caused such pain.

"I woke you," the doctor answered honestly, although it was the truth it was at the wishes of a higher authority.

"No there was another," Cass forced her mind to recall the hazed images of her revival, a voice from above sounded in her head but she could not make out the blurred messy figure that had stood on a metal mezzanine above. "I see him."

"I was the one who woke you," the doctor repeated and the grasp on his neck tightened. "But it was not me who ordered it."

"Then _who_ was it?" Cass screeched frantic for some answers. "I knew him! The one he sent me after, I knew him."

"You did once," the doctor said truthfully, his tones still high but composed. A voice in his ear hissed in anger at this, but he ignored it, she was already compromised. "I'm so sorry, but you were a first attempt, and first attempts never work out."

Cass glared at him, her luminous blue eyes narrowing dangerously. The doctor winced deeply, expecting his neck to be snapped, but he felt the hand drift away from his throat, and light footsteps ring in his ears.

"_Call them up doctor, her time has come." _

The dark haired man flittered his eyes open slowly, the failed attempt disappearing back to the surface of the diligent city. As much as he hated the execution order, he had to give it or it would cost him his own life. Three soldiers bolted past him in the corridor not moments later, boots pounding on the concrete, heavy weaponry in their strong arms. The doctor had perused the Versuch file countless times and he knew that those soldiers had no chance at successfully destroying her, he found himself silently hoping he were right.

Cass wasted no time in confining herself to the dark alleyways and hidden spaces among the streets, she past an old faded poster stuck to the red brick wall above a set of green plastic bins; it was for an exhibition held at the Smithsonian. She paused and studied it with wide eyes, Steve was there, shield held high and a platoon of men ready behind him, guns raised. To his immediate right a dark haired man, the paper of the poster had been ripped where his face was and dangled down limply, Cass reached up hesitantly and smoothed it over so she could see the man's face, her heart jolted inside her chest she recognised him more vividly now.

Her keen ears pricked at the thundering of heavy boots all too late, she made to move back out into the light of the city but the three soldiers who had been pursuing her saw her slender body shift in the shadows.

One of the men stepped forward and peppered the whole scene with rapid gunfire, Cass had felt each one sever her skin and jolt her body. Once the dust had settled, the soldier spoke into his radio, sure and clear.

"Target down."

* * *

_reviews are love - thank you for reading c:_


	5. Castiss Liddell

_**A**__/__**N – **__hello beautiful readers, thank you so much for all your reviews they mean a lot! here's your next chapter, sorry for it taking so long but I deleted the notes I've been taking down off my phone by accident and they were mainly for this chapter :c _

_anyway, I managed to remember bits here and there and filled in the rest. to those of you asking about Bucky, he will be making an appearance very soon, enjoy! c:_

_(**EDIT: **I've changed the information on Bucky's dog tags, as I have now found the correct information for it c:)_

* * *

Cass reminisced in the darkness. She had spent so long drifting in its cold, black pit that when she was dragged back to consciousness revelations of a tragic past exposed itself to the very nerves of her brain. Night had settled over the city and it slept with troubled peace, few cars roamed the dim streets and shop windows were foggy with gloom until morning opening hours. Blinded by the pain of severed skin and lodged metal, she scrambled at her body pulling the bullets free and allowing the pale, colourless flesh to heal slowly. Cass removed those she could, but deep inside of her she could feel many more being pushed aside by the curious, off-world energy.

The woman had stumbled her way through the heavily brightened street lights and slipped through an open window before it was closed by the old man on his last round of the museum, she consigned herself to the shadows and waited patiently for him to move on through the large exhibitions and down to the securities office where he would be spending the remainder of his night.

She felt an uncomfortable tightness on her chest, the skin trying to tug over the slug and knit back together, she toyed with the lump and yanked it out with her pale thumb and forefinger, the compressed bullet clattered to the ground with a light metallic noise, the old caretaker never so much as turned his head as he limped down the corridor, flashlight jumping over shadowy walls and high ceilings.

Once the pale light had vanished, Cass stepped gingerly forward, her cyan hued gaze finding a dark blue plaque stating 'The History of Captain America', a white arrow pointing in the opposite direction to that of the security guard and beside that a small, round, painted shield, the one she had seen the man himself holding.

Cass followed the white indicators and came out into a large, open, grey space, it was dim and her keen eyes could only make out black shapes and what appeared to be seven, wide square-like pillars. Using her initiative she felt against the smooth wall to the right until her ashen fingers touched something rough, pressing down on the switch the vast room was doused in light and noise.

The final exhibit to be lit with white spotlights were the eight fabric mannequins stood by the far wall in a form of semi-circle a low handrail preventing children access to the old, musty smelling uniforms encasing the dummies. The men who they once belonged to had been dubbed the 'Howling Commandos', though Cass, or Archie in this respect, had never been a part of the unit she still had her place beside Captain America, her own uniform up there with the rest.

Those times inside her fragmented mind would not have even considered a museum exhibit, yet here it was, her place in history, side by side with Captain America himself. She looked at the mural behind the uniformed dummies, the short blonde haired Archie to the Captain's left; a fierce glow in his candy apple coloured irises, and a dark haired, dishevelled Bucky to his right, iced-blue eyes looking down as if he could see her standing there silently in the bright light.

The ache in her head pieced together small fractures of imagery, the medical exam given by her father, the cutting of her hair, the name taken from her late grandfather, all of the snippets formed an uneven line, large spaces still left in darkness.

The large grey pillars that filled up the floor space, giving visitors room to weave through alluded to the lives of the six Howling Commandos (Steve having being given a whole, albeit small, adjoining room on his life story) and Cass herself. She located her own history and stood in front of the pillar, fascination gripped Cass' tense body as her blue eyes scanned the peculiar white words, they spoke kind of her, and she realised how the world had seen her capture.

"_Archie Liddell, brave, selfless and true, one of two men to give their life to the cause and fall in the field, upon his capture he suffered a great deal of torture, but still never gave in and never gave up; lost not forgotten."_

The white text went on to her biography, the home she had back in Britain and her father, Cass could not prevent the small sorrowful smile gracing her lips, she had no idea her disguise as Archie was so convincing.

Large screens fixed onto the right wall flickered on; they showed very old looped footage of times long since past, the Howling Commandos pouring over maps, strategic attacks and good old-fashioned laughter all played out. One caught Cass' eye and her attention was focused on it, a portion of the 107th were stood in a small group, anxious glances and silent calls given to the trees behind them, she recalled the reasoning for this, Cass had been lost for a number of hours.

The monochrome video that flashed before her eyes was the moment of her return, they had gone up against a small amount of patrolling soldiers who were just as surprised to find a two hundred strong U.S platoon wandering enemy territory as the 107th was at finding a pocket of soldiers so far from home, a fraction of them battled in a short skirmish with no fatalities and only some minor injuries, in her haste Cass had circled round and took out a few Jerry's who silently crept up from the foliage behind, she found herself away from the rest and amongst unfamiliar trees.

Stumbling her way out of the bushes a few hours later, she happened upon the group; her Sergeant at his wits end rallying a search party. Once Bucky saw her approach, dirty and sweating like the rest, he gathered her up in a tight embrace, ignorant of those around them. Cass apologised rapidly burying her smudged face into his broad shoulder, and what she did not see then, she saw now; Bucky tilted his head to the clear sky, pure unbridled relief shining in his brightened grey eyes. Aside from some very curious looks from the men, (Cass could not stifle a chuckle at this) thankful smiles were past round at her safety. The film faltered, black dots taking over the colourless picture before it looped back to the beginning, Bucky and Steve laughing together once again.

She turned her head away, anguish swelling in the corners of her eyes, seemingly more tears of frustration rather than sorrow; her head was in such a painful mess.

"I thought I might find you here."

Cass tensed, instantly becoming frozen, her body rotated to the owner of the warm voice slowly, her eyes met the famed Captain America the star on his chest shining in the light. He looked tired, as if he had been awake most of the night, what she did not know was how he had been searching for her from the moment she disappeared, a good number of hours were spent trawling busy streets. His left cheek had purpled with a dark bruise, guilt slammed into Cass' chest she expected the force of it to knock her over, all she could do was stare at this blonde haired man the constant reel of questions chasing each other over and over in her shaken head.

"The first time I saw you," she was saying quietly, not truly understanding where these words were coming from. "I was taller than you, now you're taller than me, what happened to you?"

"It's a long story," Steve answered coming to stand by her still cautious of her unstable nature, his eyes found the screens just as they flickered back to the images of himself and Bucky laughing together, he thought of his best friend and regretted doing so.

"So long you had to have your own separate room," Cass replied with a slight chuckle.

Steve smiled just hearing the old British wit smother her tones once again was a joy, he had longed to hear it ever since he had woken up. "Have you looked?" he asked after a brief pause. "At your own pillar I mean."

"Yes," Cass answered watching the video play out on their peculiar screens. "I didn't realise how convincing my guise was, I thought it was rather obvious."

"It was only obvious once you knew," Steve said, his broad shoulders rising with a deep breath. "You must have done something right."

"This is all so confusing…" Cass muttered, that deep loneliness clawing at her expression again, she turned away from the screens and meandered through the tall grey pillars, a lost emptiness taking hold in her chest, nothing made sense, she felt diminished like a candle having been snuffed out.

"Let me help you," Steve suggested lightly, twisting to watch his old friend pace and weave through the columns, she flittered past Timothy Dugan's enlarged portrait and stopped, she was edgy and Steve was constantly aware of her heightened emotions and disordered mind, even now she was dangerous and he hated not being able to trust her completely.

Steve manoeuvred so he could see what made her halt in her long paces, she stood in front of the first grey pillar, the on nearest the display of uniforms, Steve's heart twisted unbearably as his blue eyes found the large photograph of Bucky Barnes beside the white text stating his premature, heartbreaking demise.

If she was honest with herself, Cass had purposefully avoided Bucky's grey column, she did not want to know who he married, or whether he had had children, or even if he had actually gotten married, she did not want to see his long wonderful life spent with different people, she did not want to see him happy with people who were not Steve or her. The awful truth of his life was even worse to witness.

"Dead…" she echoed mournfully after reading in silence; recalling that her own pillar stated 'one of two men to give their life' though she did not expect it to have been him.

Steve had stolen up behind her, he had come here more times than he could count but he still felt that uncomfortable twinge pluck at his heart when he saw his friend's pillars, he could not help but find a small sense of delight at having one of them stood by his side, even if the circumstances of her being here were horrific and unspeakable.

"Oh well, he'd only be old now anyway," she said with a light grief stricken chuckle, if she had not already suffered enough, there was still so much evil in the world.

Surprised, Steve raised a thick eyebrow to her unexpected laughter, he would never understand the British outlook on death, they seemed to take it as a joke but that was not the reason; it was a coping mechanism. He saw the deep scars and sorrow in her unnaturally cyan eyes, once bright orbs that he recalled the man in front of them once stating that they were too beautiful to be real, a green, he had said, that reminded him of a sun filled forest. What Cass would have thought of that back then he often wondered, whether or not she would blush or punch him for it, you could never tell with the fierce woman.

Cass reached out, her pale fingertips stretching far until they brushed the peculiar feeling material that his sepia image was printed upon. The ends of the chorus to _Star Spangled Man_ drifted from the small adjoining room opposite them as they stared in silence at their friend's life history. Something struck Cass then and an abrupt tingle of life ran down her spine.

"My uniform!" Cass exclaimed suddenly, startling the super-soldier somewhat as she dashed to the far wall and closed the gap between the curved metal handrails separating the mannequins from the public. She had only just realised something very important, and as her cerulean hued orbs settled on the dark green pocket which was once hers with a small brightness captured within them, she saw the tiny bulge in the fabric.

Steve stood back and watched as she leapt dexterously over the rail and came face to face with her now pristine uniform, she dug around in the pocket for a brief moment and brought back in her slender hand a set of battered, war survived dog tags. Cass' eyes swelled with a sorrowful joy, she flipped the metal tags over in her pale, colourless palm, the stamped name, regiment and various other necessities presenting themselves:

**_BARNES, JAMES_**

**_BUCKY_**

**_CAMP LEHIGH, VA_**

**_DOB: 16/10/1917_**

_**SHELBYVILLE, IM** _

She clutched them in her hand tightly, more memories breaking through the smoke and solid walls, he had given them to her just before they were planned to advance. While she was sliding freshly loaded magazines into their respective pouches around her waist, she had felt his eyes on her scruffy head, looking up to find the man there, something held in his dirty hands, she stood.

He had taken her hand and turned it so her palm was facing upward, placing the cold metal tags on her warm skin and closing her slender fingers around them. Cass looked down at them and shook her head in a small movement. _"Bucky, you can't give me your dog tags what if you –"_

Bucky had prevented her from even thinking of the word, let alone saying it aloud. _"I'm not giving them to you,"_ he had said quietly. _"I'm just asking you to keep a hold of them until I get back."_

"_Alright,"_ Cass recalled replying with a slight smile, and that was the last conversation she could remember having with him, everything after that was just a painful blur…

"Cass…?" Steve called softly stirring her from the bittersweet memory. "What is it?"

Cass came back to him, a small brightened spark in the corner of her eye, she held up the tags and they dangled on their chain. "Bucky's dog tags," she said with that sorrowful smile which suited her pretty face so very well. "He gave them to me before we advanced through; I thought I'd lost them…"

"I'm sorry," Steve breathed.

"I'm sorry too; it must have been incredibly difficult seeing it happen…" she trailed off before her tangled feelings bested the strong walls she had built.

"No," Steve said taking both her strong shoulders lightly in his hands, regret fuelled him now, something he had felt for a long time but it turned to a form of desperation as he saw the anguished loneliness in her eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't come back for you."

"You did," she replied instantly, and she spoke the truth, he was stood in front of her right now, he could have quite easily left her, but Steve was not that sort of a man he brought the best out in everyone he encountered and if it were not for his sweet nature she would have surely become a different person to the one she was back then.

Somewhat reckless in her schemes (not at all helped by Bucky) Steve was the one to bring her back to her senses, take her shoulders and shake her out of it even if he had to tip-toe in order to do it. He would never give up on her, and now he had a chance to make things right.

Cass lurched forward suddenly, her whole body doubling over in a shot of horrible agony; it dug deep in her voice box and she screeched painfully, her high voice carrying into the tall grey ceilings. She had neglected the bullets lodged in her flesh, god knows what they had done to her internal organs, great waves of pain fired like the rapid gunshots all across her augmented body. Cass stumbled and fell, Steve having to swoop down low and catch her by the waist in order to prevent her lissom frame from slamming into the concrete floor.

"Cass?" he called anxiously, turning her head so he could see her face, it was creased with the deep stinging riling through her veins, and she was unable to find coherent sentences to say only managing to repeat 'the bullets, the bullets'.

She muttered for a small second, her quiet voice becoming indefinable before she was dragged back into that reminiscent darkness, the lids of her aberrant sapphire eyes drooping shut.

Steve held her, the softness of her choppy hair stroking his face, oddly he found a deep sense of comfort there, he was no longer alone, he had someone from the past right here with him. His expression only illustrated the bliss and unbridled relief he felt deep in his aching chest, lifting up Cass' unconscious weight he made a silent pledge to never give in until he brought her back whole.

* * *

A faint, dull, constant bleep filtered through, every limb ached, her head pounded dreadfully, bright medical light scorched her sensitive eyes, but still as the white room came into focus she had orders that needed to be completed.

Cass made to move but pain struck every inch of her chest and torso, tight bandages were wrapped around her body, gauze was on the right side of her neck stuck down with strange white tape, she relaxed her tense state, remembering herself and sank back into the white sheets.

"… Damn that hurts," she cursed to the clinical ceiling, although her metabolism was at its highest human potential major wounds still took at least a few days to heal completely, it made the pain no less severe, she felt as though someone had turned her inside out.

Her foggy eyes found the machine monitoring her steady heartbeat, it was slick and what was now the height of technology, whatever happened to two fingers placed on a wrist or neck?

Her wrists felt cold and as she rotated them she found out why, metal cuffs were trapping her to the bed the only metal strong enough to hold her power down, a flood of violent images cascaded through her mind, she would have scrambled but the pain was blinding.

"They gave you enough anaesthetic to knock out a bull elephant and you're waking up only two hours later," a deep voice halted Cass in her fright, she froze her head canting to the side of the bed, a man all dressed in black and leathers sat on the metal chair beside her, his left eye was covered with a patch, the edges of the old wound peeking out around the material, his remaining eye was fixed firmly on Cass' petrified features, she had woken up to something like this before.

"_What have you done to me?!"_ she demanded, her dark tones pure venom. The machine examining her heartbeat leapt into a frenzy of noise

"We took out the remaining bullets that were inside you, your stomach was perforated and your heart was also hit, you can say thank you later," Director Fury replied calmly, ignoring the blaring screens, they soon quietened down once Cass retained her poise.

A nurse, who had been across the small room observing yet more monitors at the Director's request, propped Cass' head up with yet more thick pillows, she could now see forward properly and watched as Fury settled himself back down in the chair beside her after having to allow the nurse room.

"My name is Nick Fury, I'm the –"

"I know who you are," Cass said dismissively, shuffling her weight uncomfortably, the tight tugging sensations already taking hold. She had been briefed on who and what she was dealing with before she was set loose on the world.

"I want to know who you are," Fury replied coolly. "I want to know what you remember; I want to know what HYDRA did to you."

"You don't want to know much then, sir?" Cass' British derision came back to bite, it always seemed to worsen when she was in pain.

Fury merely looked at her, an eyebrow raised, Cass knew that he wanted to help her, but her mind was full of so many lies and a vast array of chaotic thoughts and feelings; it took her a long pause to sort through most of them. She arrived to what she could recall of her experimentation, it was a dark aura in the deepest pit of her mind but she thought that this man could shed some light on what they did to her, more than anything she wanted to understand her new self.

"I was fuelled up on sedatives," she began quietly. "All I can remember is a blurred mess… but there was a blue light inside the syringe they used on me, it looked like smoke swelling within the glass but it had the consistency of thick water."

Fury's brown furrowed deeply, he had seen something like that before, he opened his mouth to speak his mind but the nurse at the back of the room cleared her throat and spoke anxiously. "Sir, she's emitting small amounts of gamma radiation," she was startled at the findings blinking across the bright screen. "It's coming from inside her cells."

"Cross match those results with the radiation of the Tesseract," Fury ordered, getting swiftly to his feet, the ends of his leather coat billowing behind him as his eye graced the multiple screens examining different aspects of Cass.

"The patterning is the same, Director," the nurse said beyond shaken.

"My god…" Fury muttered; astounded by what he saw.

"What is it?" Cass insisted, not liking their tones at all. "What's the Tesseract?"

"A powerful energy source that's not from around here," Fury explained. "Schmidt used it to create weaponry and it looks like you were the first of some kind of soldier, he managed to harness the power and put it inside you," he stared at her in an odd sense of wonder and fascination. "You were an attempt at fusing the Tesseract's power to human cells."

"They said I was a failure," Cass said, not as surprised as she should have been, everything was so baffling and frightening nothing really seemed to faze her anymore. "What did they mean?"

"You're strong, not just in body but in mind as well, the primitive way they took your memories was painful and pointless," Fury retained his seat again, mind heavy and reeling with many questions.

Cass leaned back, her muscles tender and sore, she knew the truth and still she felt so lost, perhaps it was the unfamiliar surroundings, she had been in a hospital twice in her life, once when she was born and once when she broke her arm trying to climb a particularly high tree, and it looked nothing like the bright stinging light and walls surrounding her now.

"I-I…" Cass stuttered, the overwhelming guilt hit her again, she felt terrible. She wanted to curl up under warm woollen blankets beside a small fire with a cup of hot tea in her white tin mug, Bucky beside her telling stories of his and Steve's childhood antics, but that would never happen again. "All those things I did; those people I killed…"

"Listen to me," Fury said firmly, steeping his hands to rest on the bed. "That was not you; the person that killed those people was a ruthless, brainwashed assassin, not you. Rogers speaks about you all the time and I can say from what he has said you wouldn't have killed those people in your right frame of mind."

Cass smiled to herself, it was a nice warm feeling to be remembered let alone spoke about frequently, although this sentiment was short lived because she did know what action she took when she attacked that family, she just had no idea why she was doing it.

"I still knew what I was doing," Cass voiced her thoughts. "I just didn't know why."

"What were you meant to be doing?" Fury enquired curiously.

"Causing chaos," Cass replied, they were her orders plain and simple. "They called it a test run."

"So they gave you a test run and then decided to kill you? That makes no sense," Fury shook his head, the inner workings of HYDRA really were a mystery.

"I was compromised," Cass said. "I remembered who I was; I suppose they didn't think I was worth the effort. I was a baby step to something bigger."

At that moment the glass door across the room slid open and on a small computerised panel a profile of Steve appeared and a disembodied female voice stated his name and clearance. The man himself followed shortly after, his sleepy eyes wide with worry.

Cass perked up at seeing him; she smiled gently, the dull ache in her bones becoming increasingly irritating.

"Hello," Steve greeted groggily, it appeared he had not had any rest and if Cass was not mistaken it was the early hours of the morning, he came to stand at the foot of her bed.

"I'll leave you to it Cap," Fury said, he had a lot of things to discuss with a lot of people. He left and once the door hissed closed behind him Cass released a breath she did not recall taking in, her body relaxed.

Steve took up the chair beside her bed, his right fist was clenched, Cass looked over to him anxious for a brief second but he was smiling softly. "I have something of yours."

He looped Bucky's dog tags over her head so they rested over her heart, she would have brushed her fingers over them, but the cuffs prevented her doing so, she understood their precautions, she was still unstable, she certainly felt so but she was also in a state of calm, one of serenity and she felt contented for events to take their course slowly.

"You're gonna be alright now," Steve promised, placing his hand atop hers, his fingers curling around the cuff. "I'm going to help you."

"Thank you," she said gratefully, the first genuine smile spreading across her lips since 1942.

* * *

_if you listen closely you can hear my muffled screams in the distance._

_this chapter was difficult to get down, hopefully it was alright, again I'm sorry to have kept you waiting! _

_thank you for reading; reviews = love c:_


	6. Potential To Be Something Great

_A/__**N - **__hello, hello! I'm really surprised at how much support this story is getting, I'm so grateful to everyone who has reviewed, liked and followed this lonely old thing. I think after this chapter we may be seeing a much anticipated Winter Soldier and finally get some Cass/Bucky dynamic going on *excitement* c: _

_enjoy! _

* * *

Steve had been fidgety for a while now. In the few short weeks that followed Cass' hospitalisation she had been kept under close observation, numerous tests were run at the will of Director Fury and with the consent of Cass herself, it appeared she was just as curious of her new being as the rest of the agency was. Although, as Steve had watched proceedings from the two way mirror looking into her little isolation room he could not help but feel the painful tug in his chest when Cass winced away from prodding fingers or sharp needles, he had to remind himself that the last time she was stuck with a needle everything went very dark and all things blurred into a lost confusion.

The reasoning for his current restlessness was evident on his face, new wounds had been struck on his only just healed cheek, a trickle of blood edged down his nose and his left eye was purpling with a horrid bruise that throbbed violently; he could hardly see past the puffy skin.

He did not hear Natasha's silent approach, but he knew she was stood behind him as her reflection slid and shone onto the tinted glass in front of him, he did not turn as his blue eyes were set on Cass' forcibly peaceful state on the bed, images of her enraged, bloodthirsty features still lingered in his mind.

"You should clean up before going in there again," Natasha spoke quietly, she had been watching over the Versuch while the super-soldier got some well deserved rest, he had just taken over from her when it had happened.

Steve was silent, he had been considering what he would say to his friend ever since she was put under, tranquillised like some animal; he detested it, but he knew it was the only way for now. The line of her life that had been so terribly blurred had become clearer, but dark holes and gaps still remained. Steve wanted her to have some kind of familiarity with the new world, his apartment was like that, the style would be recognizable to her, but Fury would not let the woman out of his sight, least of all now.

An element of trust had built up slowly, and Fury had decided it was time for Cass to be set free from her cuffs, she was more than glad of the new found liberty and had stood up to stretch her legs almost immediately. The white, clinical cotton shirt and trousers she had been given were thin and she found herself yearning for that old, dark green military uniform.

Steve had arrived once she was settled back on her bed, head resting on the steel headboard of the bed and bright eyes trailing the ceiling, her slender fingers traced the printed dents of Bucky's dog tags when the female voice announced the super-soldiers entrance to the small room.

She flung herself at him, his body being forced against the white wall harshly, it cracked under the pressure of Cass' augmented power and her breath came hot on his cheeks as she growled lowly, her voice strident and piercing. "_How did you get past the guards?!" _she snarled in what seemed like fluent German. "_Tell me what you are doing here! Speak!" _

"Cass, it's me!" Steve called not understanding her accented words; her force crushed his chest and heavy breaths caught in his throat. "It's Steve!"

"_Who are you?" _she demanded, her voice no less frightening, but it became ferociously soft. _"Tell me what you doing here and I may let you leave with your head still on your shoulders," _she threw a vicious strike to his cheek catching his nose in the brutal blow.

Grunting glaringly, Steve spat out the blood that had pooled in his mouth leaving the foul taste of tin and salt in the back of his throat, all of this was made all the more painful because he looked at her furious eyes and saw nothing but a killer.

Three S.H.I.E.L.D agents thundered into the small room, one held a large syringe firmly in his gloved hand and they all instantly reached for Cass, once her eyes settled on the pointed tool they broaden in a fear unlike any other. She backed away swiftly, her body grazing the foot of the bed, her mind was clearing but it was too late.

"Stop it!" Steve yelled fiercely, she was scared, he could see it in her wide eyes. "Don't hurt her!"

The agent had no choice but to stab the needle through the cotton shirt, the thick metal sliced the skin on her upper arm and the newly formulated sedative set in motion almost instantly, Cass' strength failed her and her powerful body fell limp in the arms of the man who had done it.

He laid Cass down and let her head drop softly onto the pillows as Steve scrambled to his feet, bloody nose muffling his voice, the remaining two agents repeatedly requested he leave, but the Captain was vigilant of their intentions and stood fast for a long time. It was not until he was assured she would not come to harm that Steve moved away and took up his position behind the two way mirror, nursing his wounds the best he could.

Soon the agents all cleared away, Steve left standing with nothing more than a broken nose and a black eye behind a tinted window, he observed Cass as her steady breathing fluttered in troubled sleep, finally finding an answer for Agent Romanoff.

"I don't know if I want to go in there again."

He hated how the words tasted on his tongue, it was vile to hear himself say such things about his sweet, kind and fierce friend, but he could not hide from the truth, she was dangerous, fractured and broken and he could not trust her. He called upon his silent pledge and soon those uncertainties were chased away by a new fortitude, he had never backed down from a fight, he was not about to start now.

Natasha came closer so she was side by side with the wounded Captain, her green eyes found Cass' restless body, she had known what sort of a risk Fury took in rehabilitating the Versuch and she was glad he had agreed to it, just seeing the unyielding determination in Steve's blue eyes was enough to clear away any doubts she may have held over the whole idea.

Both watched cautiously, somewhat tense, as a very brave nurse entered the room, she placed down a tall glass of clear water on the bedside table right next to the wilting flowers Steve had placed in there a few days ago to cheer the whole clinical smelling and medical feeling room.

Dreary, Cass' droopy eyes finally opened, the sweet nurses face beside her as she plumped up the feather pillows her head rested against, she hummed quietly to herself while she worked; a usual thing for the young woman to be doing. Cass rotated her wrists, unable to find the cool metal that was habitually gripped around them, something flashed in her luminous eyes, and her pupils widened, all she knew was that her hands were free and she had orders to complete.

With the motion of a swift, small bird, Cass' right hand sprung out and coiled firmly around the nurse's neck, the air was heaved from her and the strangled cry was lost deeply in her closing throat. Cass forced the young nurse's body away like a great rag doll; she fell back and slammed into the bedside table knocking the water and flowers from the wooden surface. All three crashed to the ground in a frenzy of noise and scurried feet.

Out. Cass needed to get out of this awful room, she needed air and distractions, her chest ached with painful breaths, stumbling slightly she headed for the glass doors, punching her weight straight through the thick clear material, piercing sirens and red lights ignited instantly. Panicked and lost Cass bolted, a scramble of constant noise pounding against her head.

Steve and Natasha had leapt into action on instinct, they were hot on the Versuch's heels, and unlike Cass they knew the Tirskelion's multitude of snaking corridors like the backs of their owns hands, but she was incredibly fast, and always managed to stay ten steps ahead of the Captain. Natasha, fuelled on her initiative, broke away from the super-soldier intending to cut Cass off at the entrance hall, but even she, highly trained and fleeting on her feet, was too slow.

"_All agents Code 16, all agents Code 16,_" a woman's voice joined the blaring sirens and red corridors as Cass tore past the tall grey statue of the S.H.I.E.L.D insignia in the centre of the large entrance hall. "_Hostile patient is loose." _

She was given no time to take in the bustling streets teeming with vast crowds and life once she had pushed her way through the glass doors and out into the bright lights of the world, everything stung her keen luminous eyes horribly, the harsh sounds of grating voices and pursuing agents spurring her legs onward. She forced herself down a damp alleyway the blare of shoppers and busy cars a distant thud of noise. With bated breath, Cass slid down the wall and fell heavily to the dark concrete wrapping her arms tightly around her legs she buried her riled, teary eyes in white cotton.

She did not flinch at the far away sounds of drumming footsteps for she recognised the dull, heavy beats as a friend not foe.

"Did I kill her….?" She demanded as short breaths reached her ears, her voice tremulous with fear and an unending cycle of guilt, muffled against her legs.

"No, she's fine," Steve comforted modulated in his quiet tones, crouching low to the ground he tilted his head, gazing warmly at her while she lifted her face slowly at his sure answer. "A bit shaken, but she's absolutely fine."

Cass' eyes brightened at that, she had hurt, not killed, she released the breath she held in her chest, her augmented body easing out of its shaken state. Cass did not mind hurting people, as long as it was the right people, she was prepared to do the necessary action to the enemy, but these people were not her enemies and hurting them was beginning to tear her apart slowly.

_I hurt him… my friend, I hurt him twice but he still stands in front of me not giving up, he must have thought I was damn worth it; we must have been very close…_

"Come on," Steve said, extending a hand down to her slowly. "We need to get you somewhere safe."

Hesitantly, Cass took his hand and Steve pulled her from the damp ground with ease, fingers firmly locked he did not let her go until they were stood outside his apartment door, the super-soldier fumbling in his jacket pocket for a set of keys. The busy day was nearing its peak and so it was unusual for Steve to be home, being as quiet as he could he managed to avoid suspicion from his neighbours.

He pushed the door open allowing Cass to crawl in first, she felt the homely warmth of the open space quite charming compared to the close, white, chilly isolation room she had been prisoner to for weeks. She found it peculiar that the cream walls and simple furniture were so familiar to her; the living space reminded her of an old house she once lived in…

Cass felt the shift in atmosphere and she realised they were not alone, her stance changed and she raised her fists a protective drive accumulating in her mind, for some reason, unknown like so many other instincts, she felt obliged to shield Steve from whomever was present.

She stole forward a few paces, the large window on the far wall filling the room with sharp afternoon light, it danced down onto a figure sat comfortably on the old battered sofa in front of her, the back of their head facing them both. Steve had frozen by the door after closing it, wary of what mind set Cass had fell into once again, though this time it was different, she held a hand behind her back, low with her pale palm facing outward as if it were pressed against a small chest. He realised then he had seen such a scene before one late night while trundling home they had happened on a group who had jostled fun at little Steve, bristling with anger he attempted to fight it out, but Cass, hand pressed to his chest with her back to him, took on the role herself.

"At ease soldier," a painfully familiar voice spoke calmly; acutely aware of Cass' advancing power they still did not move.

Steve immediately leapt to defend himself; he could see what this looked like. "Director, I know this looks li –"

A hand was raised idly into the air; Director Fury knew exactly what this was. "Don't worry Rogers I know you didn't bust her out, I'm glad you found her so quickly actually; we need to talk."

Steve walked forward, manoeuvring around the sofa so he could see Fury's face, allowing only one glance to Cass who had become deathly still at the eye-patched man's choice of words, her gaze directed at the carpet as if she willed a hole to burn through it.

"How did you get in here?" Steve stipulated, it would be nice to have one place he could call secure, but then again one was never safe working for S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Through the front door," Fury answered with a look that was indescribable and could only be associated with the fact that he was head of the most secret organisation on the planet, and Steve had to ask how he managed to gain entry to a simply locked room.

"Now," Fury stood up twisting on the spot to settle his remaining eye on Cass, she did not look up to him for a long pause, her mind teemed with so many looping thoughts. "Miss Liddell, we need to talk."

Steve stiffened involuntary at the look which glazed Cass' deadpan expression, whatever she thought Fury needed to say, it was as if she knew instantly that he was venturing to something that had been forced upon her so many years ago.

"There world is full of people who can't be controlled," he began, his wary eye never leaving her. "You are one of these people, singularly you have the power to cause severe damage to anything you are set upon, and I believe that if we can harness that power, well…"

"Do you want to control me, Director?" Cass speculated her voice dangerously low and setting alarm reeling in both men. "Because that's not going to work, people have already tried."

"We don't want to control you," Fury said calmly. "That's not how we work, but I do _need_ people like you."

Cass considered herself for a moment it was a warm feeling, to be needed, with a more patent frame of mind now she thought on all her choices.

She felt safe within the close walls around; her shoulders rose as if she were being embraced, mind drifting slightly with light delirium a possible side affect of the new sedative Fury had ordered to be created specifically for Cass, "… this reminds me of home," she whispered to herself loud enough for Steve to hear. The threadbare armchair in the corner looking out from the window stirred up images of her father gazing out across fields smoking his curved pipe in silent brooding.

Steve felt his body relax finally, it was things like this she needed, familiarities that would dig up old memories, anything was better than nothing. The way Fury had wanted to do things filled him with dread, but Steve had stood his ground and somehow managed to sway the Director's mind to different approaches, although his most apt choice in bringing her to his apartment was one he refused, understandable but frustrating.

"Is there anything you can tell us about HYDRA and what they might be planning?" Fury asked, desperate for some kind of answers, something to work with.

Cass shook her head ruefully, flaxen hair falling about her ashen face, clouding her eyes for a brief moment. "I was mercenary, a good soldier, but if you are planning to take them down I want in, I have a lot of old scores to settle."

"I don't understand why they wanted to have you executed, and I don't like not understanding," he moved to the window, dark eye turned down to the bustling streets below. "I've seen you work, your aptitudes outweigh some of my best field agents and you would be a very valuable asset to us."

He paused for a moment, his eye glazing over Steve's silence, vacant and dwelling features until it came to rest on Cass, and he continued his expression unreadable and voice monotone leaving nothing of his true uncertain feelings to fall through his careful words.

"But there's no denying that you're incredibly dangerous in the state you are in at present, you have the potential to do a lot of damage to any of my agents –" Steve had shuffled uncomfortably on the spot, whether he was a fool to do so he suddenly trusted his friend wholeheartedly again, she was strong in mind and he knew she would come out of this whole, he would not let any other out come take shape " – however, there are certain things we can do to help you, it will take a lot of work and test you both, but I think with the right push you might just be the key to all of this."

Cass did not need much time to mull Fury's musings over, HYDRA had done this and the one thing she could not stand was if they were to do it to someone else, no one should have to endure the things she had done, and if she focused on bringing light to the dark she could stop such abhorrence ever happening again.

"You have to promise me one thing," Steve was speaking, his mind set and brow furrowed. "If we do this, no more white rooms, no more tests and no more cuffs; we do this the old fashioned way."

Finally it was Steve's turn to do the looking after, and he did not realise how fiercely he would feel the sibling-like bonds being re-forged out of the darkness, she had always been the one to drag him out of a fight he would never back down to, her and Bucky chasing away the ones who found entertainment in his savage beatings; now it was his turn to leap in front of the jaws and liberate her from the experiments.

Fury eyed him with a frown, he did not like the thought of more people getting hurt, but he also partially understood what Cass had been through and that, even though she had gone through some tests just to see what the energy inside of her had done, any more may cause more harm than good. He gave a silent acknowledgement to the super-soldier, his head dipping a fraction.

It was then that Nick Fury turned and extended a hand to Cass, his brow taught and deep voice hiding his concerns and doubts, he trusted Steve's judgement and as he spoke he was still unsure whether it was the right decision or not, in time however, he could never have seen himself making any other choice.

"Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D."

* * *

_*muffled squeals in the distance* _

_I'm getting excited now! the greatly anticipated Winter Soldier is on his way next! _

_reviews keep me motivated to write & are greatly appreciated! c:_


	7. My Dancing Partner

_**A**__/__**N - **__hello, hello! thank you so much for all your reviews they mean an awful lot to me! so here we go, the Winter Soldier as promised, now we can finally get some Cass/Bucky moments on the go c:_

_for the plot of my story I may have to alter the Winter Soldier timeline so Cass fits into it nicely without loosing the Steve/Bucky dynamic which I though was fantastic in the film, hopefully Cass wont become a third wheel. c:_

_enjoy!_

* * *

_Washington D.C. – One Year Later_

Alexander Pierce was troubled. Not troubled in the sense of how proceedings were fanning out, they were going extremely well, better than he had ever hoped, but troubled in what his next move was going to achieve, the consequences it could cause. He sat in the dimness of an open plan kitchen despite the late morning sun; it had been blocked from the large apartment windows for a great number of reasons, the throb of his aching head the last of them.

Movement in the shadows sprung sudden alarm inside of him, he did not have to wait for the figure to emerge to know who it was, he had called for his greatest Russian purchase none to long ago, and like the good dog he was the masked assassin awaited his force-fed orders in the faint light streaming through the edges of the covered windows.

Pierce did not raise his head which was held in his hands, anxious eyes turned to the smooth wood of the table, he was still contemplating his choices. The Versuch was a miracle that much was certain, it seemed like such a waste to simply call for an execution, but she had done her work, unknowingly, and given the precious time that was so desperately needed. Now the pivotal hour was almost at hand and she stood in the way like so many others, finally the man saw clearly, he knew what needed to be done.

"Kill them all," he stated bluntly to the table. "I want them all dead, including the 01."

The Winter Soldier, clad in his black weathered leathers, looked out from beneath the dark paint smeared around his laden eyes, through the thick ebony hair that dangled absently by his pale cheeks his expression was hardened, vacant with an empty mind and lost soul; confusion with a misunderstanding of why.

"The 01 and Nick Fury are your top priorities, understand?" Pierce enlightened his tones sharp and concluding.

The Winter Soldier graced him with a curt nod, his broad frame a mere shadow against the dimness of the room.

"She's given us time," Pierce continued, without any real need of it, still his Russian asset stood still against the wall, listening like a good soldier until he was dismissed. "More time than I could ever have hoped for, but now she is standing in the way," it appeared he was reassuring himself more than anything; his head was still full of doubts.

"Snap her neck in two –" he said, recalling the old, handwritten notes of Schmidt himself stating that the Versuch could not be killed "– and see if she can come back from that, and if she does, relieve her head from her shoulders."

The Winter Soldier dipped his head again slowly, he had never had cause to ask questions where his orders were concerned, however now he felt the strange desire to inquire as to why she simply needed eradicating. Surely there must be a use for her, if not in the field then in the labs, as Pierce had said himself she was indeed a miracle and a frightening one at that.

"Get this done quickly, the time has almost come."

Thin strips of light danced across the Winter Soldier's heavy, pale face as he drifted past the blocked window lightly, each of his steps were well placed and full of lethal precision even now. The tensions of Pierce's shoulders finally relaxed as his gaze failed to rip away from the shadowy spot the Solider had vanished past; this was it, the final moment had come at last.

* * *

Cass had been curled up drearily in her violet bed sheets, comfortable and with a long awaited feeling of security, when her phone had begun screaming at her, the tone it produced was infuriating and she had half a mind to throw the damn thing out the window.

Rolling over sluggishly, she reached out with a pale hand and drew her finger across the screen to halt the horrid noise. It was around half past eleven in the morning and Cass had had no cause to rise and so she had not done so, however now she found herself remembering what day it was.

With a clear mind, the waves of bewilderment washed free and the tight grip of enemies long since banished, the remaining horrors were locked away deep inside a cage where they could no longer do any harm. Months of hard, painful work had lead to this less than ordinary life, yet Cass was glad to have survived it. Admittedly there were many complications; however all who were involved with her rehabilitation plan knew that it was going to be a less than smooth road.

Her memories sufficiently returned Cass, at the request of Fury, had undergone the training required for his top field agents. Having already been expertly educated by HYDRA many years previous it did not take long for the lethargy of suspended animation to be expelled from her augmented muscles, she was a keen marksman and lethal with a knife (a knife of which she was rarely seen without). Fury had now ordered psychoanalysis to be the final steps before he cleared her for active duty, however Cass' therapist, Dr. White, had been using such techniques since their first hour and had built up all manner of concerns, ones he had not mentioned to the Director as of yet.

A shaky sigh left her parted lips as Cass propped herself up and swung her legs over the side of her double bed, it was dim in the small room the light of the day only just peaking through the edges of the thick curtains above the wooden headboard of the bed. She threw them aside allowing the full blare of harsh sunlight to fill the room, her sensitive eyes stung right to the back and it took a prolonged pause until they focused again, with a deep breath and wide stretch Cass yanked her body up and staggered into the open plan apartment, snatching up her phone in the process.

The vastness of technology was more of a necessity rather than a complication for Cass, she was slowly warming up to the strangeness of the new world, when she left it countries were at war, and when she woke up they told her that the allies had won, but she hesitated in asking what was lost amidst her joy.

Out of time and sync with the world she sought comfort in the small pieces of home she could gather, her bright eyes fell upon the grey, tarnished photographs framed on the dark wood bookshelf which lined the far cream wall, there were four in total, one of her father, one of Steve and Bucky and two of herself and Bucky, a small, sad smile graced her lips briefly before she moved into the kitchen recalling the events which lead her to this small, cosy apartment just down the hall from Steve himself.

As Fury had promised, Cass was released from the hospital unit at the Triskelion immediately, under Caps watchful gaze she was placed onto a cycle of therapy, one which would last for eight long, antagonising months. Fury ordered Cass into an apartment down the hall from Steve so he could keep a good eye on her, it was when she was first introduced into the little rooms that she noticed the photographs and proceeded to embrace the super-soldier in a tight, bone-crushing hug, momentarily forgetting her strength and almost squeezing the life from the poor man.

Cass chuckled to herself at the thoughts of his ample blue eyes and awkward clearing of the throat, she placed her phone down on the round table which was on the boarders of the kitchen and living space (much of the apartment was open and so things tended to blur simply because Cass was sluggish in housekeeping after spending so long surrounded by men in the field of battle). Reaching up to the cupboards above the black marble work surfaces she fetched down a small, white porcelain bowl, and skimming across to the opposite side she retrieved some healthy, boring cereal; her belly had been howling at her since the early morning, now they day was reaching its peak she could feel the sickening hollowness of her empty stomach.

It was then her phone began to ring, although this time it was a different, equally as annoying, tone, one she recognised to be Director Fury's (she had given all of her contacts different tones so she knew exactly who it was before she even saw the name flashing on the touch screen) leaning back she swiped a pale, slender finger across it's surface and unsurprisingly the man's deep voice filled the silent apartment as if he were standing before her once she had pressed speakerphone.

"Finally got your ass out of bed?"

"Do you still not trust me Nick?" she said shortly taking a wary glance around for any signs of cameras, although it occurred to her that he probably knew her habits and peculiar sleeping patterns from Dr. White and simply assumed she had just risen. "How did you know?"

"I took the cameras away," Fury's voice reassured truthfully, he merely supposed she had only just woken up as Cass had thought.

"After I found them in the cupboard," Cass noted with slight irony, perching herself up onto the marble work surface with the small bowl of cereal and dried strawberries slathered in a sufficient helping of semi-skimmed milk. She chewed on the crunchy grains slowly watching the phone on the round table.

"It was a precaution," Fury's voice defended and she could tell without seeing the man himself that he was holding his hands up. "There were bound to be some side affects of the experimentation, you've had black outs before."

"Not for six months now," Cass replied, swallowing, she was somewhat complacent with the great achievement. "I think I'm fairly stable."

Fury's profound chuckle snaked through the phones receiver. "I might clear you for active duty if you're not careful," he warned, a little bit of juvenile badgering falling through the words.

"It's about bloody time sir!" Cass insisted, ever since she had retained her memories of the field and the horrors of war she had ashamedly wanted to feel the adrenaline rile through her muscles once again, the dark thoughts of what she had done to an innocent family ever watchful in the back of her mind. "You know I'm surprised Dr. White hasn't given up on me, I'm not exactly talkative in the hour, he seems to do more talking than I do."

"You'll be amazed how much he's learnt from you." Fury's voice answered the light of Cass' phone dimming slightly before the screen inevitably went black. "Rogers should be calling in around one o'clock if you could play nice until then that would be very much appreciated."

"Yes, sir," Cass said with a slight, essentially pointless nod. The call was dropped and she glanced over to the simple clock above the wide, door less doorframe, time was slowly edging on and the day was at its pinnacle in fifteen minutes, Cass hurriedly finished her breakfast and slung the empty bowl and spoon into the sink with a harsh clatter.

Heading back to the bedroom, feeling sure that Dr. White would not appreciate her still in a plain, oversized t-shirt she wore to bed and pyjama shorts, Cass rummaged through the large wooden wardrobe that was opposite her bed near the door. She grabbed out a load of random clothes and dumped them on the bed, scanning the pile for sufficient items.

Cass had grown attached to 'skinny jeans', especially the black kind, she liked how even though they were tight she could still throw very accurate kicks and move freely. She had also built up a vast array of, what was now considered vintage, waistcoats. In her brief epoch of the opposite gender, she had found waistcoats to not only be smart but also comfortable, now in this new modern world she was able to wear them and her usual attire consisted of simple and some patterned shirts with waistcoats and skinny jeans; All Star Converse being a new favourite too.

Now, she slipped into a light duck-egg blue shirt which she was sure once belonged to Steve, grey acid washed skinny jeans, and a pair of battered brown combat boots hidden away at the bottom of the wooden wardrobe. Tugging them on, she fiddled with the laces and then fixed the buttons on her shirt all the way to her pale neck, the top one left open, the tattered metal of Bucky's dog tags just peeking through the gap, ever since Steve had placed them round her neck she had not taken them off.

Standing Cass wavered to the small adjoining bathroom; here she took a good long look at herself in the mirror above the white porcelain sink. Her hair had been cropped short again, pixie like the flaxen tresses stuck out in an all manner of directions, her big sad eyes still blue with the power of the Tesseract energy residing in her cells, how she missed that candy apple green…

Cass' ashen high cheek-boned visage had reformed some of its previous rosiness, still pale her soft cheeks now held a subtle natural pink. However, the dark circles under her eyes would never be doused, all together she looked less of a weapon and more of a human, working for S.H.I.E.L.D was a satisfying job as they treated you as a person not just an agent or a weapon, Cass needed that kind of atmosphere more than anything. With a sorrowful tug at the ends of her hair, memories of brylcreem and comb-overs washed over her.

The soft, chiming _ding-dong _of the door bell brought her back and with a private smile for loved ones lost she stole back out of her bedroom and across to the deep blue, faded front door at a less than enthusiastic pace.

The familiar soft features of Dr. White were not a pleasure to see for Cass, she liked the man, just not his profession. He greeted her with their customary handshake and warm hello, stepping aside to allow the tall man in she offered him tea and as usual he turned down the request, Cass ventured into the kitchen to make one of her own waiting for the doctor to settle down on the armchair he had occupied for the sessions which had spanned the eight months. Smartly dressed in a charcoal grey suit, he shrugged off the cream blazer which had recently been pressed and placed it over the back of the armchair, taking out a small black notepad and pen from its left pocket he settled into the comfy material crossing his legs and awaiting his patients return momentarily.

Cass appeared with a floral patterned mug full of steaming tea in one hand and the kitchen chair in the other, placing the chair down a meter away from the doctor, she sat down and took a small sip waiting for the first question he always asked at the beginning of the hour.

"How have you been since our last meeting Miss Liddell?"

Cass had to suppress a cringe at his sickly calm tones. "Fine," she lied smoothly. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

There were so many things she had kept from him over the months, but now she felt that a deep sense of trust had been built from the ashes and she could sense the tug of what she had lied about rising and brimming over in her mind. A feeling she pushed aside like she had done many a time.

"Are you quite sure about that?" Dr. White asked, putting pen to paper he scribbled a few words out before looking back up. Cass did not meet his eye directly, this was not unusual for her, it was a tell tail sign of her lying. Dr. White had come to know her habits fairly well within their sessions, even though Cass did not speak much he had learned a great deal, for instance: her peculiar sleeping pattern, the way she did not meet his eye when she spoke slander and her sentimental attachment to those who were lost.

Cass felt a frown settle on her pale features, she felt sure that through the tone of his voice he knew she was laying, she took another sip of tea allowing a small silence to occur. Cass thought long and hard about what to say, she always did, however today the tug of truths felt stronger.

"I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes," she began, speaking quietly without full confirmation from her teeming mind. "My fists clenched ready to attack an imaginary enemy. I hear my drill sergeant yelling at me sometimes, guns throttle in my brain and some days it never stops…" Cass looked down at her hands ashamedly, they quivered slightly, her grip on the mug intensified and she thought the force might break the poor thing. "And my hands won't stop god damn shaking!"

Dr. White leant back slowly, his back coming to rest on the chair, he had suspected she might have been suffering from such a thing for a while, her words and actions now only confirmed his suspicions.

"You know," he began calmly. "These symptoms are part of something we call Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD, it's a natural human reaction to the things you have seen and been through. You may experience dreams where you relive these events and you might begin to feel isolated and guilty, it is totally understandable I can assure you."

"And you've only diagnosed that now after eight months," Cass seethed bitterly, a stubborn creature she refused to believe his words. "Look at me I'm absolutely fine."

He did look at her, studied her with a trained hazel eye and he certainly did not see fine, he saw a lost, broken woman inches away from falling to pieces the only thing holding the shattering glass together was the strength of her soul. Cass was twitchy; her blue eyes constantly circled the room for non-existent threats, her fingers tapped on her knee distractedly while the others held a mug so tightly it was close to breaking. The dark circles under her eyes had worsened in the passing week since their last meeting.

"You are very good at hiding your feelings Miss Liddell; it's your body that tells me these things. You need to take time away, end the suffering."

Cass remained silent for a moment, she did not want to take time away, she wanted to crush those who had caused the suffering, stop them from putting anyone else through such pain.

"If I am to be truthful," the doctor continued, taking Cass' silence as a good thing when in fact it was precisely the opposite. "I would advise you to stay out of active service for at least three years."

"Three years?" she scoffed unable to control the tone, she shook her head disbelievingly, HYDRA could have branched out to half the world by then, the mere thought of it felt like an icy finger working its way down her spine. "That's not an option."

"It is the only logical option; I am saying this for the benefit of your health, not to cause trouble, I fear that if you were to return to duty to early you may digress back to what HYDRA did to you."

A sudden, precarious, and uncomfortable anger glowed deep within Cass' chest; she hated this more than anything. The harmless, soft words of the doctor grated against her ears now and triggered a horrible fury, she wanted all of this to stop, the mourning the agony the aches of her heart, she wanted it to evaporate and everything to return to how it was. Frightened that she could not control it she placed the mug down, her hands shaking something terrible.

"Castiss…" she could taste the fear in his low voice, he knew how dangerous she was; he had been at the runt end of a blackout and suffered the scars from it before.

"I just want to go _home_!" she was screaming now, but she did not fully understand why, all this hatred and grief had built up into a burning fire and the structures had just collapsed from the blaze. "I want my green eyes back, I want to see washing lines strung across the street, I want to use the god awful Bakelite telephone that never worked properly, I want to see my father again, I want him… I… I just don't want to be here anymore; I want to go home…" her voice fell weak and turned to a troubled silence.

It was now finally clear, Dr. White had finally seen what he had needed to witness months ago, the smoke surrounding the mysteries of Cass' tangled thoughts and feelings had lifted at long last. The doctor found that his pen would not write, he put them down beside him and analysed Cass' short breaths and shaken frame.

"You must understand the people from your past; they aren't going to come back."

"I know…" she said fragilely, she had been repeating those words to herself for the last year. Like an instinct her pale, slender fingers brushed over Bucky's dog tags, the battered metal was warm from resting against her skin.

"You need to let them go," Dr. White urged, his expert hazel eye catching her distant, absorbed expression and circular motions.

"I know," Cass repeated, mind adrift and voice monotone with lack of integrity.

"You need to let_ him_ go," the good doctor knew it was a hazardous path to venture down, but he felt it was necessary for her recovery, it was hard moving on if you refused to set free the ghost lingering in the mind.

To his surprise, an expression he could not prevent settling on his features, Cass smiled. It was a tiny curve of her lips, one that would perhaps go unnoticed, her fingers gripped the dog tags around her neck and her head tilted up so their eyes met.

"Not today."

She had let the words hum and soon her phone ringing shrilly from her pocket took over the silence, she recognised the theme instantly and wrangled the small piece of technology from her jean pocket, the flashing name only confirming what she already knew.

"Excuse me," Cass said politely being acknowledged by the doctor with a curt nod his voice seemingly lost with her defiant words, she skimmed past the chair and into the kitchen, her bright cerulean eyes tittering on the doctor's dark curls for a moment.

"Well, if it isn't the star-spangled man with a plan, how was the trip?" she answered brightly once the call was active, she held the small phone to her ear, fingers absently tapping on the back of a random chair pulled up to the round table.

"Fine, thank you," Steve's voice replied surely, however Cass could not help but feel it was forcibly so, he sounded distracted. "Everything went according to plan… except…"

"Steve, what is it?" the tapping stopped instantly and the gravity of the situation settled into her voice. "What happened?"

"I… well it was Natasha…"

Cass sighed briskly, she had come to see the expert spy as a tad of a nuisance, Natasha was cold, but it appeared that the more time you spent with her, you realise that she can be fairly pleasant company. Natasha liked Cass, be it because of her sterling British personality or the fact that she had the ability to crush Nat's head between her bare hands was anyone's guess. All anyone could see was that they had formed a mutual friendship but it ran deeper than that, neither of them were able to cope with emotional vulnerability, they hated to bleed on others; this was where their loyalty to one another was forged.

"What did she do?" Cass asked hesitantly her low tones the epitome of seriousness; she did not want to mistrust Nat if she could help it.

"I found her extracting data from the ships computers," Steve replied quickly, seemingly wary of something being close by. "But that wasn't part of our mission."

There was a pause before Cass spoke again, her voice reassuring and calm, she was not naïve to the ways of S.H.I.E.L.D she had become familiar with the internal secrets of the organisation, she was certain that Director Fury knew more about his agents than the people did themselves. She had pondered over the man's motives frequently. Now however, Cass pushed the suspicions out of her mind for the benefit of Steve.

"I'm sure it was nothing Cap; don't dwell on it too much."

"I hope it was nothing…" he said darkly from the other end, it appeared Cass was not alone in her questioning thoughts. "Anyway –" his tone changed to its usual chirpiness after a brief sigh. "– Fury wants you in, he said he has something to show us."

"Alright," Cass said, mind still reeling, though there was never a moment when it was not troubled. "I'll see you soon."

She dropped the call without waiting for a goodbye. Her hands were still quivering slightly after her emotional outburst, as she slipped the small black phone into her grey jean pocket she focused on gaining control over her body again. She could only hope that in getting to Fury first she could persuade him that she was fit for duty despite Dr. White's professional concerns.

Perfectly composed, she emerged from the kitchen after a short silence; Dr. White turned his head up and greeted her with a slight smile. "Is everything alright?" he asked evenly sensing the woman's shift in mood, a danger at best.

"Terribly sorry Dr. White but this hour will have to be cut short," Cass said bluntly, ignoring his unnervingly serene question. "I'm needed at the Triskelion."

"That's fine," Dr. White replied, uncrossing his long legs and rising to his feet, although Cass could hear in his cool resonance that he was in fact not happy with it, a thought he indeed made clear. "But I will have to speak my concerns to the Director, I am not at all comfortable with him allowing you back out in the field so early…"

"It's been a year; I think I can handle myself," Cass dismissed none too kindly, she was growing tired of his sympathies and unnecessary expert worries.

"I don't doubt that you can Miss Liddell," Dr. White said brushing off her harshness; picking up his cream blazer from the back of the chair, he folded it over his right arm. "PTSD can affect you in different ways –"

"Thank you for your worries good Doctor," Cass interrupted, not wanting to hear the long list of symptoms she knew she had. "I really must be on my way."

"Of course," the doctor said with a small nod.

Cass showed him to the door, becoming restless, he left without another word although his expression was hardened and an anxiety had worked itself into his hazel eyes. Cass watched him walk down the corridor and only turned away once his curls had vanished down the red carpeted staircase. Turning she hurried over to the kitchen and grabbed up a grey, patch work waistcoat draped over the random chair by the round table and slid into it, she then hunted down her battered brown leather jacket and dotted scarf before leaving.

Outside the charming apartment block, day to day life was busy as usual along the streets, Cass weaved her way past bystanders and coffee holding workers to a delightful forest green, white roofed Austin Mini parked on the curb; she dug her hand in her jacket pocket and flicked out the keys twirling them on her slender finger before shoving them in the lock.

Cass folded her augmented frame into the driver's seat, shifting her weight into a comfortable position and fixing up the rear-view mirror she turned the ignition; the small car coughing into life.

The little car grumbled down the street like an old man. Cass turned onto the freeway a few moments later heading to the Triskelion and was immediately met by a long line of traffic, with a loud, irritated growl Cass struck the steering wheel with a clenched fist. "Dammit…" she muttered under her breath.

The line of cars crawled forward just enough to let Cass' Mini squeeze in, as soon as she was settled the line halted and remained stationary for what seemed like years. Cass let out a long exhale, flicking the radio on the now modern music came as a quiet background noise amidst the low rumble of engines.

Cass decided now was a good time to alert Steve to her lateness, wriggling to grip a hold of her phone she eased it out of her front pocket, scrolling through her limited contacts she found Steve's number and hit call.

The super-soldier did not answer, the dull beeps had turned into an automated female voice, and so with a light sigh Cass left him a message in the hopes he would get it sooner rather than later: "You'll have to go on without me Cap, the traffic is terrible, fill me in later perhaps? Alright, I'll see you as soon as possible."

Cass leant back in the battered leather car seat, she sat there in silence taking in the concrete sights and shining roofs of multiple cars, minutes soon turned to hours and the young woman found herself humming a swinging tune from her own time in an attempt at belaying boredom.

She had begun tapping her slender fingers on the steering wheel to a song she did not know coming softly from the radio when she saw it. Her keen, sensitive, cyan-hued eyes picked up the minuscule alter in the cloud lining, where they were once white and absently drifting, thick grey wisps now took over, she recognised the fast moving substance to be smoke.

Her first thought was to an accident that may have occurred, the likely cause of the traffic; however the true reason for it was more horrifying. Cass' head cocked slightly to the right, her eye line moving so she could see better; the atmosphere had shifted, she could sense it.

The sudden realisation hit her like a spasm of terror, she had known in the back of her mind for the last year that she had never really escaped their cold clutches, she lived in apprehension, almost waiting for it to happen.

Her sensitive hearing picked up the acute, sharp beeps in the nick of time, on an intense impulse she dragged her body sideways and as soon as she had moved fire engulfed the nearby cars and simultaneously the bombs that were strapped to their bellies detonated and sent large shrapnel splintering through the air. The deafening sound lingered with vindictive intent, the force of the explosions washed over Cass as she clutched her head in vicious protection.

Once the muted, eerie silence fell Cass struggled to lift her body up. She shook her head free of the pain and felt a wetness edging down her neck, her perforated eardrums pounded and all the noise around her was muffled, a small amount of blood seeped from them. Looking out, she could see little through the increasing, thick smoke, but ahead, where she suspected the 'accident' that had caused the traffic to be, was a line of black jeeps set out like a barricade.

Cass shoved on the passenger side door half limply and rolled out onto the concrete road, the heat of flaming wreckages licking her pale skin. Deep scratches were etched into her forehead and she stumbled to stand and walk forward, her body was frozen by what she saw emerging from the smoke and barricade of black jeeps.

Like a shadow dancing against the grey vapour a broad figure surfaced, through her bleary blue eyes the first thing Cass noticed was metal reflecting against the covered sunlight, once she had focused it became apparent that the silver material was in fact the figures left arm, a red star was painted on the shoulder, causing alarm. Clad in weathered black leathers, something that was not dissimilar to the uniform Cass was shoved in for her mission, the figure was masked, muzzled like a dog needing to be kept in check. A multitude of guns and their respective pouches were strapped to his strong body, but what Cass took notice of was the knife fastened to his right leg. A thick mass of dark hair dangled absently around the deep red tinted goggles he wore, the tresses waved gently in a soft breeze as he came to stand a few metres off, smoke clouding behind him like a wall of concealment.

_The Winter Soldier._

Cass had heard whispers of this famed weapon, seen the file at a glance in the lab she woke up in, he had been credited with numerous assassinations and was regarded for his extensive skills and ability to complete a mission no matter the cost, be it civilian or his own life. However, Cass did not feel fear as she perhaps should have at this awaited eventuality, instead she held a fierce determination, to be the one that got away.

It was evident who had sent him, her lords and masters; HYDRA. She felt it a privilege almost to be considered such a difficulty in eradicating that the ghost himself had to do it. She raised her head strongly, taking a single step forward so she was in line with the Soldier. Recalling the rainy afternoons she had spent slouched in front of a blackboard, her Papa endeavouring to make the complicated language stick in his daughters mind, Cass found the right words to speak.

"_Did they send you to kill me?" _she enjoined in shaky Russian, she did not now much of the language, but it was enough, her powerful, even tones carried across the road, the crackling of burning metal a distant sound.

The Soldier's metal, fingerless gloved hand curled tightly around the grip of the Colt M4A1 he held. His voice was low and gruff, muffled against his fitted mask;_ "Yes."_

"_I want to know why." _Cass encouraged, both to satisfy her curiosity and to by some time to think through her options. Her Colt 42 and combat knife were in the glove compartment of the little Mini, she wondered whether she would be able to take short steps back, unnoticed, to retrieve them. However, she attempted to take a stride, cyan eyes never leaving the Winter Soldier's frozen stance, and his broad frame tensed trained hands moving over the smooth barrel of the black firearm as he toyed with the large weapon like it were nothing but a plaything.

"_You are compromised," _he continued._ "And you know too much." _

A deep frown etched its way onto Cass' brow; _"I don't know anything," _she replied, and she spoke the truth._ "What's the real reason? Are they frightened because I fought back?"_

"_No," _the Winter Soldier said immediately, firm and somehow slightly conceited. "_All you have done is pave the way for something better."_

"_And what is that?" _Cass asked the slight hesitation she felt not surfacing in the emotionless words.

"_Me."_

He moved with such lethal precision, with full intention of his actions and an expertly trained ingenuity that it took a fraction of a second for Cass to leap into action, mind clear on tactics. Working on initiative and training alone, Cass sprinted to the open passenger side of her small car. Warning shots were fired they ricocheted off the door, bullets denting the green painted metal; Cass dodged from view protected for a brief moment.

Instantly she fiddled with the glove compartment, ripping the plastic off its hinges with her augmented power and haste, she reached inside of the tiny space and yanked out a handgun and knife, fastening the black sheath and belt around her waist she checked the bullets in the Colts magazine, there were half the number there should have been and she could see no spares.

"Wonderful…" Cass grumbled to herself, now was not a good moment to have limited supplies. Taking a wary glace upward she caught the Winter Soldier's strong body straightening up a few feet away.

She saw the gun before he had the time to pull the trigger; crouching low the Soldier peppered the little green Mini with a spray of rapid fire, the fragile glass of the windscreen caving in and shattering over Cass' head. With a muffled growl of pain Cass clambered over to the close back seats of the tiny car, edging her way slowly out of the rear windshield which had been shattered by bullets, she slid out onto the road and ducked low steadying herself. With fingers curling around her trusty Colt, she took a pause for breath.

The gunfire started up again but it was not as she remembered, it was different sounds altogether, not the cold metallic beats from heavy machine guns, but even now she heard the ring in her ears as if the ambush was taking form behind her eyes again.

Cass, for the first time, felt herself flinch away from the harsh noises ricocheting around, she recoiled against the green metal of her car; heart flittering wildly with painful palpitations. Legs scrambling against glass covered road, she heaved air through her lungs at a shocking rate. Panic rose from nowhere and settled tightly across her chest. Her hands shook violently and the tight grip she held on the grip of her trusty handgun faltered. She could not put a name to what she was experiencing but she felt sure it had something to do with the PTSD Dr. White warned her so gravely about.

With a defiant groan of annoyance at her betraying bodily reactions she shook her head. "Now is not the time!" she cried through gritted teeth, her head belittled what her augmented muscles were doing, stiff tremors weaved through her body shaking it despairingly, but her sharp mind and keen senses took over, adrenaline one again pushing out the panic.

Sprinting from her cover she loosed a few precious rounds in the Soldier's direction, he dodged them all smoothly, leaping into the air and twisting out of their paths in a graceful motion. Cass' skidded to a halt deftly and fired again but after a few bullets were shot her Colt coughed and only metallic clicks could be heard, with an angered groan she threw the weapon aside. Reaching for her knife she flicked it into the air, catching it with refined ease she looked up to her rival.

The Winter Soldier had caught the large combat knife in the Versuch's hand the metal shining against the light of the day, he threw his large gun to the ground and striding into the centre of the carnage he produced his own knife his powerful body tensing with readiness.

They stood there staring one another down for a long pause, each flinching with anticipation if the other so much as shuffled. Cass' equated her options, she was skilled but she did not know the extent of the Soldier's abilities; _I guess I'll just have to find out_, she thought with a raised eyebrow.

Cass took a sharp breath and launched her strong body forward, the Soldier crouched slightly ready to receive her, but half a meter away Cass forced her frame into the air and dove over the Winter Soldier's head, he struck out with his knife missing Cass' ribs by a mere inch. She landed in a low stance immediately lunging with lethal intent at the Winter Soldier, they tussled for a time each side both equal in capability and so it seemed only a mistake would set them apart.

Close hand combat was like dancing, except your aim was to kill your partner not take them home to the meet the parents, for Cass knife training was an ease, it almost came naturally. She managed to loop her arm around the Soldier's neck, using all her augmented power to force his broad frame down, however he had gripped her jacket with his bionic arm and thrown her over his head.

Cass handled the sudden flight by twisting acrobatically and falling adroitly, holding her knife wielding hand out as to not meet her own end with it, dangerously close to the edge of the freeway now Cass balanced herself and considered her next move carefully.

The Winter Soldier gained on her steadily, twirling his knife around he threw it from one hand to the next, from behind his tinted goggles he measured up Cass' strength, it did not take him long to realise it outweighed his own by a large scale, though it did not matter, he simply needed to be close enough to dig the blade into her skull.

Raising her left hand nimbly, Cass was adamant on striking the knife from the Soldier's grip, but out turning her palm was a grave mistake. The Soldier thrust the knife straight into Cass' pale hand, the blade sliced through the skin and out the other side wielding its way through her knuckles, the strangled, garrotted cry never left her lips. She stumbled backwards, clumsy with a searing pain rippling through her whole hand, deep blood ran down her wrists and dripped in alarming quantities to the concrete below. She stopped, forcing her back up straight she gripped the handle of the knife and slowly pulled the blade free of her flesh, her ashen features scrunching in bitten down agony.

The knife fell from her shaking grip and clattered to the road, the Winter Soldier was stock still, head cocked slightly to the right with grey eyes wide behind red tinted goggles.

Cass tore the dotted scarf from her neck with her good hand and hastily wrapped up the open wound, taking advantage of the Soldier's uncharacteristic pause, he should have delivered the final blow while she was occupied with a wound. Blood was already seeping through the soft material, and as Cass looked up to her enemy his unmoving body unnerved her greatly, she bit down on her lip to hold back the pain.

It appeared the shadowy adversary was suspended in some form of thought, but the drive of orders punched through the confused and twisted thoughts sending his powerful body lurching forward. Weakened, Cass failed to block the one coming attack.

The Winter Soldier heaved Cass' strong weight with his metal arm over to the edge of the concrete, silver fingers grasped chokingly around her neck he forced her body against the rails, a long drop between her and the busy roads below. Pain searing through her torn hand and now breath being savagely pulled from her lungs, Cass could not raise her power to fight back and so it did not come as a shock to her when the dark assassin threw her augmented weight over the side of the bridge. She plummeted straight down struggling into a position that would cause the least amount of damage on impact, her heavy body landed cruelly on a passing red Chevrolet its horn blared as the driver panicked blindly the roof of his car caving in and the glass of the windscreen bursting through on him rendering his skinny frame unconscious and bloody. Vehicles screeched to a halt to avoid yet more damage, ears pounding with noise and head spinning Cass found difficulty in lifting her body up with her good hand and instead rolled off the cars roof only to land with a sickening crunch to the concrete road, the wind being knocked out of her.

From above, the Winter Soldier watched, hawk-like, as Cass scrambled for cover behind smoke and stationary cars with their petrified occupants. Cradling her poorly, scarf bandaged and bleeding hand she felt flesh tug against bone as the broken knuckles began to correct themselves. Her breaths became normal after a short time and her bright eyes never left that of the masked assassin, one of his assailants had cropped up behind him, sniper in hand and dark eyes searching the smoke.

To her ultimate surprise and relief, the Winter Soldier turned away, muttering something inaudible to the hired gun on his right, the man lowered his execution weapon and Cass could only catch a single word which had escaped the Russian assassin's lips, however it was enough to send cold, hard dread settling across her chest:

Fury.

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_a rather long chapter but it seemed appropriate to end there c;_

_thoughts? reviews keep me writing & are very much appreciated! c: _


	8. It's Been A Long, Long Time

_**A**__/__**N – **__hello, hello! thank you again for all your reviews they mean so much to me! c: I haven't updated in a while and I feel awful for that, hopefully this chapter will make up for it c: _

_enjoy! _

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She needed to warn them. All Cass could think about were those few short words spoken by the Winter Soldier before he turned his back; barely able she darted swiftly through the underbelly of the city skimming past the homeless in blind haste and stiff pain. Only some took notice, most were bleary with a lack of fortitude and had only the clothes on their backs, but others resilient to some extend pondered at the peculiar sight of a bloody and dirt covered woman pelting through their dark, dank redbrick alleyway.

The thought of being alone had never frightened Cass, she was not unused to the solitude of her own company but now it tore at her, it was gut wrenching knowing that she, with all her off-worldly strength, was essentially powerless in the face of what was going to happen.

Her mind reeled with so many circling thoughts, the only one that she paid heed to at present was the safety of Director Fury. She paused briefly, her aching back finding the redbrick, damp wall. The alleyway was deserted at this point and the light at the end of it was broken only when the distant buzz of cars whizzed past.

Cass flexed her wounded hand uncomfortably, she brought it close to her face; it would be usable within the hour but would not fully heal until a few days had past. She unbound the silk scarf and inspected the deep cut. The massive amount of blood loss she had suffered had been hazing her ardent senses for a few minutes, however now it was finally beginning to wear off. The flesh had knitted back together under the thick, caked scarlet and already her augmented metabolism had started to create fresh blood pumping through her veins returning the Tesseract's alien strength to her muscles. There would certainly be a horizontal scar line, yet another addition to the old war wounds. Wapping up the lesion securely with the bloody scarf, Cass did the only thing she could and phoned Steve, with any luck Fury was still speaking to him about whatever he wanted them both for earlier in the day, and she could warn him of the immanent threat.

Her heart leaped into her mouth when the phone kept calling out with no answer, however soon enough the super-soldier's calm voice could be heard. "Hey –"

"Steve?" she practically yelled down the receiver, breathless with running and unable to hold back her desperation any longer. "Where's Fury?"

"Just left to rendezvous with Agent Hill," Steve replied albeit a little stiffly the shock at Cass' distressed tones was evident in his deep resonance. "Why? What's going on? I got your message but –"

"You have to stop him!" Cass cried interrupting him. "Someone's going to try and kill him, it's them Steve they've found me I –"

Steve's voice called out her name before the phone spluttered and wailed signalling its loss of battery, fear riled through his profound tones and it set her off balance somewhat, a low growl sounded in her throat; a fiery anger rising.

"No!" she screamed deeply, throwing the small black device at the wall in front of her in a fit of sharp rage; it shattered with the power and landed on the dirt accordingly. Cass scrunched her face half in pain and half in helplessness, taking a defiant breath to those yielding thoughts her eyes flashed with that fierce spark; it was up to her now.

Mind set, she thundered down the rest of the dark alleyway, her battered combat boots splashing through dirty puddles on the concrete, blood stained her blue shirt and her grey waistcoat flapped beneath the brown leather jacket with the speed of her body.

The hustle of the streets neared and as she bolted from the alleyway (frightening the life out of some hazy shoppers) the brightness of the eclipsing day stung her fervent blue eyes. She had no time to take in the ogling and petrified voices at her bloody appearance, no doubt the world was no used to its heroes running about the place, though Cass did not feel like much of hero; not yet.

Weaving expertly through the masses of people knocking past a few in her haste, Cass gathered her bearings, if Fury was to meet with Agent Hill he would surely be driving there, S.H.I.E.L.D cars had a knack for being ostentatiously recognisable; large, black and with tinted windows.

A man in a charcoal suit and brown briefcase glided past the woman, his eyes wide with fear at her rugged state, her keen ears focused upon the words being spoke of her in puzzlement, surely she seemed to be a little lost in the centre of the busy streets. Working on her fast pace instinct, Cass looked up and all around at the tall stone buildings, finally her sharp cyan eye found that of the network of freeways leading through and eventually out of the city.

Cass forced all of her augmented power into her lithe legs and ran through the bustling streets, her quickness catching her off guard momentarily as she found that the velocity of her sprint was incredibly fast. Not having had the chance to run at full pelt before Cass was still being surprised by her body's capacity even now.

Halting at the end of the street, Cass could now see one of the main roads which led out of the city in front of her, surrounded by high buildings she committed the picture to memory in case the need arose for another escape, she was certain that the ambush was not going to be the first attempt on her life. She could not shake the question: why now? If HYDRA, or what she assumed to be, wanted her dead they would have done it properly a year ago, surely they knew that a peppering of bullets was not enough, they had to…

Acute gunfire suddenly overwhelmed the peaceful haze of the streets. Cass' sight turned to the road; a vicious car chase had ensued. A black SUV screeched around the corner and thundered down the highway at an alarming speed, police vehicles followed on not long after, the cops inside spraying the large black car with a huge quantity of bullets yet none seemed to do much damage. That horrid panic rose in Cass' chest but she forced the pounding of her heart to slow.

Cass knew then that this was an agency car; no one else had the money for bullet proof metal, she assumed it to be Fury and set in motion instantly. She saw a similar line of jeeps up ahead and Fury was driving straight for them. Pursuing him down the sideway of the road, Cass was brought to an abrupt halt by a familiar figure and sight in front of the barricade.

The Winter Soldier strode tenaciously toward Fury's speeding car never slowing, Cass remembered doing something of the same, but where she used brute strength the Soldier had a modernised grenade launcher aimed upwards. She watched in horror as his finger squeezed the trigger remorselessly and a circular disk span across the road hitching itself to the underside of the black SUV. There was a beat in which Cass felt her heart leap out of her chest wildly, unable to move she could only but view the anarchy. The Soldier had stopped in the middle of the road, his strong stance planted firmly and unmoving as the turmoil he had caused broke out around him.

Fire soon encased the underside of Fury's car; Cass saw the terror in the Director's face as the vehicle was flipped over by the force of the blast. Ears ringing and eyes bright with the orange glow, Cass could only observe hopelessly as the Soldier took one defining step to the side in order to avoid getting crushed. The SUV scraped across the concrete on its roof, glass shattered and metal wailed until the large car came to a halt; Fury's broken frame smacking to the roof out of the drivers chair inside sickeningly.

Chaos erupted instantly; people's frenzied screams blinded Cass' senses temporarily and soon people began to choke on collective panic as the heat of the flames engulfed the cool air. Cass spotted the Winter Soldier's tall, leathered stance gliding over the road like a ghost, gun pointed idly to the ground he neared Fury's upturned SUV his goggled sight on the Director inside the wreckage.

Using the increasing smoke as cover, Cass darted across the road and skidded to a halt beside the black car, tinted glass covered the concrete and she felt the sharp shards grazing her knees as she crouched and looked inside the metal case frantically. Fury was on his side with his back to her, his leather coat had been torn in some places by debris and he was clutching his side in agony, though his remaining eye was turned toward the boots that rapidly approached.

"Director!" she called in a hushed, crucial whisper reaching inside the car for him.

"Liddell?" Fury questioned, astonished to find the woman crawling her way inside the wrecked car. "What in the name of hell are you doing here?" he tired to turn but the pain of his broken ribs prevented such movement.

"Rescuing you," Cass answered nonchalantly, grabbing a hold of the passenger side door and ripping it off its hinges with peculiar ease. She threw the black metal away as if it were nothing but a piece of scrunched up paper. Fury did not recall her being so strong, but in the current situation thought nothing of it and found he was grateful.

"You were meant to be at the Triskelion this morning!" he growled shuffling glaringly away from the looming assassin.

"Well I ran into a bit of a snag," she replied disbelievingly, not really finding now to be the best time for an argument. "I'll explain later!" Cass gripped the Director's arm and gently tugged him toward the now door-less side of the overturned car, Fury used the opposite surface to give him a boost, pushing against the metal with his foot, soon enough he was able to slide out onto the road.

Staggering slightly he found his feet, still clutching his side he straightened as much as his wounds would allow, it was then he noticed Cass' rough, dishevelled and bloody state. "What the hell happened to you?" his eye found her wrapped up hand.

"I said I'll explain later," Cass said earnestly, persistently aware of the Winter Soldier and his trained brutality. Hooking an arm over the Director's broad shoulders, Cass guided him away from the burning ruins and used the fleeing people as concealment for them, some had been hurt in the explosion and so they did not look so out of place limping along with the rest.

Taking a glance around Cass recognised the surrounding streets, they were not too far away from her apartment block, she had managed to double back on herself; the joy she felt at that little detail was suppressed by the critical state of Fury. His blood had already found itself onto her hands and shirt.

Cass, as best she could, hurried down the nearest street, police cars howled past toward the accident and mayhem behind them. Fury, sluggish in his movements, fell behind a few paces and Cass had to frequently pause and wait for him to catch up. Anxious to get away into the safety of her apartment, she tended to twitch with nerves until she saw him in the corner of her blue eye.

Carrying on for the fourth time, they finally arrived outside of the charming apartment block that both Steve and Cass resided in, giving a swift glance left and right for danger the woman nimbly made her way up the stone steps to the doors, she stole a brief glimpse back to Fury; he was shaking his head weakly.

"No…" he mumbled leaning against the steps structure, pain was written all over his face. "Go around the back."

Cass nodded and crept around the side of the apartment block continuously taking wary glances back to make sure Fury had not collapsed from his wounds. Slinking around and out of sight she took the metal steps which lead out onto peoples balconies; she knew that Steve's was the fourth. The light patter of her footsteps was drowned out by Fury's heavy, agony lagged ones. However, the dull beats told her that the Director was still conscious and following even if it was at a terrifyingly slow pace.

Cass leapt up onto Steve's metal balcony with a light thud and went straight to the large window, trying it she was not at all surprised to find it was not locked. "Oh Steve…" she sighed, no matter how hard both of them wished it, this was not the forties and you could not leave your back doors or windows unlocked anymore, society had become a lot scarier while they had been resting.

Sliding the glass up she smoothly rotated her body into the shadowy, silent apartment, she turned and helped Fury clamber through the small space, he never once cried out in pain something Cass commended him in. The Director stumbled through the dimness and dropped his aching frame heavily down onto an armchair across the living room; he took something out of his pocket and began tapping away at it, chest heaving with excruciating, exhausted breaths.

Cass locked the window, walked into the kitchen and unbound her wounded hand. She ran it under the cold tap and watched, dumbfounded by the afternoons events, as the caked blood washed away down the silver drain. The skin was tender, but her hand would be usable now, she rummaged around in the cupboards until she found the old metal tin Steve kept his medical assortments in. Taking out a small piece of gauze and a bandage she hurriedly wrapped up the grievance. Her dotted scarf was beyond a good wash now; soaked in blood she decided the best direction for it was the bin.

She took a hold of the tin and went back to the gloomy living room, the sun was slowly sinking behind the tall buildings of the city and it cast long orange shadows over the furniture and Fury's painfully scrunched up features. Cass went to give the room some light in order to tend to him but as soon as her slender fingertip brushed the switch Fury made an odd, deep sound in his throat as if he were to say something but could not quite form the word through his pain.

Cass looked back to him and he shook his head briskly, he held up the device he had been tapping away at while Cass sorted herself out, she narrowed her eyes a little in order to see the bright screen, she could see words written on it; _ears everywhere, S.H.I.E.L.D has been compromised._

Her bereft expression was answer enough for him; Fury could not see what she was thinking. Cass remained deadpan and shook away all the horribly frightening thoughts those simple sentences elicited from her and instead focused upon making Fury's wounds a little more bearable, or at least clean.

She shrugged off her jacket throwing it onto the sofa behind her, Cass then rolled up her shirt sleeves the ink on her left arm still looking as fresh as they day it was sliced onto her soft, colourless skin, a constant reminder of her troubles and grief. She placed the tin down on the coffee table and produced some antiseptic wipes gesturing for Fury to lift his black polo neck up, he obliged shuffling uncomfortably with the stabbing throb of his lacerations, he found a position where he was able to hold up the fabric and still type at the screen of the device he held in his right hand.

Cass perched herself on the edge of the wooden coffee table, in the kafuffles of the day Bucky's dog tags had been beaten around and now found themselves on the outside of Cass' shirt rather than safely hidden away under the material, as she leaned forward to lightly dab at the cuts on the Director's stomach and chest, both battered pieces of metal dangled absently in front of her. Fury merely tensed at the sudden stinging sensation as the alcohol soaked wipes touched on the raw, open skin.

Fury inclined his head round to the bright screen again; Cass paused for a moment and looked up from her work, catching the few lines he had written: _what happened to you? Keep it brief. _

Cass thought for a second, she had so many circling questions she would be more than happy to bombard the Director with even in his current state, however her rational mind told her that this was not the time for an interrogation, and she supposed Fury would not know that much more on the subject. Then again the Director was an illusive man, in their line of work you had to be, and Cass was still unsure as to whether she trusted him wholeheartedly, her intuition screamed no at this, and she always listened to what her instincts told her.

"I was on my way out," she began quietly, cryptic, but she knew that Fury would understand, he marvelled in riddles. "I was caught in traffic, there was an accident and _someone_ tried to kill me."

Fury nodded in recognition grasping her words perfectly.

"That same someone tried to kill –" she nodded her head toward him continuing to brush away the blood from his wounds. "The question is, dear, why?"

Fury fidgeted a little and used his thumb to type out his reply. Cass had moved across to the largest gash on the Director's chest, it was still bleeding lightly so she reached back to the tin and found a piece of gauze to press against it, she kept the pressure on the wound and tilted her head up to read Fury's answer: _Me, obvious. You, not so. I assumed they thought you were already dead. _

Cass remained silent for a moment, placing the bloody antiseptic wipe on the table by her side she opened up a clean one and continued to brush away the left over blood off his skin with her right hand, pressing the gauze with her bandaged left. In truth, Cass had not leant much consideration to what HYDRA had done to her or what they had actually planned to do, if it was not just what she was originally told, she had learnt in this strange world and environment that there was almost always an underlying intention to everything. Ever since Cass had regained her past memories and lived part of this new life she could not shake the thought of only being able to do so because that was exactly what HYDRA wanted. She shook her head in a small motion, tightening the chains on that particular cage of dark, swirling opinions, even so she knew she would have to face the beast sooner or later.

_But not yet._

"I thought so too," Cass settled on eventually, it was not a lie as she did half think that way, but it was not her full intention. If there were indeed ears everywhere as Fury had warned she would not be able to divulge in her answerless questions as she so desperately wanted to anyway. "There's something bigger going on here, there always has been."

Fury's brow furrowed at her words, his remaining eye glistened in the growing gloom; the room was almost in total darkness, the white brightness of his device the only source of light. The Director proceeded to type out another sentence as Cass finished up, she had done the best she could and signalled for him to keep pressure on the gauze and pull his polo neck back down. Fury gave a curt nod in thanks as she moved away to dispose of the used antiseptic wipes and put the tin back in the cupboard.

Finding it remarkable that she could still see fairly well in the almost-darkness, Cass emerged from the kitchen with a new note waiting to be read, she focused her gaze on it from across the room and was a little confused by it: _Perhaps a little music?_

She frowned deeply, creases forming on her pale forehead, she mouthed a small '_what…?' _to him in the gloom and could have sworn she saw a slight, amused grin turn up his lips. Fury canted his head over to the corner behind her, Steve's record player sat on a tall table, his vast collection of vinyls on a shelf above, he nodded once Cass had glanced to it and then back to him.

Bewildered as to his intentions, Cass let out a breath and stole across the room her steps virtually silent in the shadows and inspected the memorable player. By the look of it, Steve was already listening to a record before he went out as it was still there, the pin drawn half way across. Cass crouched and slid her arm under the table to the switch; she flicked it on and placed a supple hand on the wood to aid in straightening up again. Her cyan eyes on the looping record now, something she had always found slightly hypnotising even from a young age, Cass raised the needle and drew it back letting it slowly fall at the beginning of the record.

There was a brief moment of silence before the sweet, old, crackling music filled up the troubled atmosphere quietly, Cass could not suppress a slight smile at the familiar tune of her decade and relaxed somewhat, even in the current disarray of the agency music had a way of settling even the most dire of situations.

Cass wandered over and claimed back her position on the coffee table, her body swaying slightly with the melody she tugged at her now grey with splatters of red waistcoat. Always attentive to the surroundings, she was as close to the wounded Director as she dared to be, and her protective nature had not gone unnoticed by him.

It did not come as a revelation to Fury when Cass tensed at the sounds of low voices befalling from behind the locked front door, the chorus of the song Cass would have expected a slow dance to be done to reached its height and she leant back with nimble precision taking up the Colt Fury had about his person at all times from its black holster.

Without a sound, Cass stood raising the gun in unshaken, slim hands, skimming past furniture she came to rest her back on the wall a few feet away from the door her breath held in anticipation. Her keen eyes well adjusted to the shadows Cass focused her mind on belaying the panic that threatened to quiver her hands. Silence had fallen on the other side of the door and Cass picked up the echo of keys and a lock being turned tentatively. She stooped ready to strike.

Fractions of dim corridor light seeped into the gloom as the door was pushed open only a little, Cass saw a hand reach down through the minute gap and take a hold of something round, a familiar soft wail of Vibranium ensued as it was raised up, it was the Captain's famed shield and only one person would have known it was resting against the wall by the door; Steve.

Cass relaxed her edgy, trained stance and lowered the Colt instantly. Evidently, the super-soldier was still adjusting to the shadows of his apartment and still held his shield high covering most of his upper torso, steadily Cass caught the top of the circular metal and pushed it down to reveal her pale features, the gloom had been chased off her face by the light of the corridor. Steve noticeably let loose a stiff breath and opened his mouth to speak his confusions, but Cass swiftly raised a slender finger to her soft lips halting him with the silent gesture.

His bright blue eyes slid to bandage on her left hand, a faint worry gracing his handsome features, and ultimately the worded ink on the underside of her arm; VERSUCH – 01. He wondered then whether there would have been a second or a third if HYDRA had succeeded all those years ago…

With that dreadful thought Steve let his shield drop to his side, shuffling forward Cass manoeuvred around him and shut the door with a quiet snap; Colt held by her side still primed to fire if necessary. The super-solider vanished into the darkness of the room, followed closely by Cass who stood by his side eyes incessantly held over the door.

Fury had written out the same obscure words has he had done for Cass; _ears everywhere, S.H.I.E.L.D has been compromised._ Steve was speaking in low, hushed tones with the cover of the record but Cass was not concentrating on his words, an awfully uneasy sensation ran through her veins like she knew something was not right. With the swift and neatness of a small bird in flight, Cass circled the room wary of all slight changes to the environment; her heightened senses began working in overdrive.

She noted how terribly jagged the Director's breaths had become, he forced his body to lean forward pressing something small into Steve's spare hand, the super-soldier's iced-blue eyes widened slightly. His grip tightened on the leather straps of his shield and he stole a glimpse to Cass, she was stock still luminous eyes twitching around each corner of the room as if she were waiting for some shadow to leap out at her, her expressionless features spoke volumes.

An instinctual spasm of terror split down her spine like a wintery finger and all too late her acute hearing sensed that of a cold metal clink. The sharp drumming of a loose round of bullets pelted the walls, only now did Fury yell out abrasively in stark agony as the metal capsules lodged in his back. Both soldiers, fuelled on the sudden push of adrenaline reacted like loaded cannons. Cass' sight caught the shooter from the window, like a ghost against the night he moved like smoke, with the few rounds she had Cass fired them.

Steve had raised his shield above his head to protect himself against the spray of plaster from the walls, his hand had shot out to the side as if to grab a hold of Cass and drag her under the security of the circular metal; however Cass was too far away and preoccupied with shooting to notice.

The meticulous cautions of both the Director and Cass had been decimated in a disarray of complete chaos, the echoes of gunfire settled and the muted, stiff silence took over the room. Steve's sharp breaths could be heard as he moved away back out into the corridor. Cass shoved the bullet deprived Colt into her belt, the few short metallic clicks following only four shots aggravating and unavoidable. Feeling suddenly very vulnerable, Cass skimmed over debris and crouched low to Fury who had fallen from the armchair, he was still.

Cass turned him over gently so she could see his face, he groaned deeply and coughed out dust from his lungs further adding to his pain. "Cass get the hell out of here..!" he growled through gritted teeth, his face creasing in excruciating agony.

"No, sir, not without you!" Cass insisted almost with violent anger at the thought of her abandoning him, she was perhaps loyal to a fault as she adamantly refused to leave his side.

With his remaining strength, Fury grabbed a handful of Cass' bloody shirt and yanked her closer to him, she jerked forward caught of guard by the rough gesture. His deep voice was laden with so much pain, but Cass could hear the vital intenseness under the jagged struggle for air. "I _need_ you alive, now **get** the hell out of here… that's an order…"

The thundering boom of shattering of glass snapped Cass' attention away, her fists rising instinctively to it. She saw Steve's body leap over the gap to the roof opposite, the shadowy assassin who had avoided her shots edging away like lightening with the super-soldier in blind pursuit.

Cass glanced back to Fury, he had become hauntingly still and his remaining eye flittered closed, the grip he held on Cass' shirt loosening before it fell limp to his side. Cass' breaths came short and rapid, the disorder had begun, but one thing she refused to let happen was Fury's death.

"You're not dying on me, Nick," she said with quiet defiance, she owed him too much to let him go so easily. "Not yet."

* * *

_so there we have it, I would keep an eye on what's happening to Cass, it's subtle but it will begin to become a major problem in chapters to come. _

_thoughts? I cannot begin to say how much reviews mean to me, they are honestly the best things to wake up to! thank you for reading c:_


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